


Chaos Theory

by Patra_Gem



Category: Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, But I guess I have a thing for the Lovers Arcana?, Crossover, Established Relationship, Eventual Romance, F/M, I'm ignoring Arena sorry, Mystery, Relationships are complicated so tagging was hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patra_Gem/pseuds/Patra_Gem
Summary: The Velvet Room is different, Igor is gone, and someone named Elizabeth has a request for a man known to change both fates and hearts.
Relationships: Amagi Yukiko/Narukami Yu, Amamiya Ren/Takamaki Ann, Arisato Minato/Takeba Yukari, Kujikawa Rise/Narukami Yu, Kurusu Akira/Takamaki Ann, Persona 5 Protagonist/Takamaki Ann
Comments: 86
Kudos: 240





	1. Potential

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I'm confused by my own thought process. Why write a multi-chapter fic of one Persona game when you can write them _all?!_
> 
> Spoilers for P3, P4, and Vanilla P5. Ren is snarky. Yu is a chad, and Makoto is...well, yeah. This chapter is mostly introspective/fluff, but the action will creep its way in soon.

**March 20, 2017**

They are alone, and he has no idea how this girl had managed it, but he is ecstatic she did.

“So, this is it?” She leans on his bedroom door, slamming it shut with a gentle push from her backside. The hard metal _clicks_ and the light laughter and arguing from the halls has gone quiet. He watches her for what must be the billionth time. She’s a curious person, and he devours that curiosity, longs for the way her dark pupils grow and shrink against pale, ice blue. She does a lap, fingers running against the wooden desk, the dresser, the black bookcase. “Funny. I think I like the attic more.”

“Ouch.” He leans back a bit to grab a pillow to toss at the blonde. She isn’t paying attention, and the flannel-covered object hits her dead on. It’d be a lie to say he isn’t proud of his aim, and even as she approaches him, red-faced, yellow flyaways crowning her in some sort of manic glow, he regrets _nothing_ about any of this. “What about the bed?”

She’s kneeling on it and over him. Her twintails dangle between his cheeks, and he internally curses that she decides to wear so many layers. “It’s bigger.”

“Yes.”

“Do I like that?”

“Bigger is…”

“Do you want to finish that?” She raises an eyebrow and sticks out her tongue. “Kidding, Ren. Kidding! Jeez! Ah!”

He’s not listening to her anymore and pushes her over, grabbing her wrists to hold them up and over her head. The pillow that should be under her is forgotten on the floor, and she is completely flat. Her chest is rising up and down from under him, and she is so beautiful and happy, and _fuck_ , he hates this. “Do famous models do small gigs ever?”

She bites her bottom lip. “How small?”

“Like your charming-leader’s-hometown small?”

She says nothing but kisses him, and it is too light and short and nothing like the playfulness they held before. “Do exonerated straight-A students do university in Tokyo?”

“How exonerated?” He regrets his question, of the heaviness that this topic inevitably brings, and he opts to ignore it completely and touch her instead. She is soft. Almost velvet. He can feel the slight hairs on her lower arm as he traces to her elbow under her bomber jacket’s sleeve. His grip from her other hand falls down to her hair and then neck, and soon he is pushed away and off so that they cannot touch at all.

Her voice is timid. “You’ll get in.”

“I’m starting cram school in three months.”

“You _have_ to.”

“No extracurriculars. No consistent school record. Who do I even ask for recommendations, Ann?”

“And even if you don’t…” She’s not listening, though to be fair he is only listening enough to know what to block out. “I love you.” He turns at that, but she is staring at his ceiling fan, eyes heavy and glassy. “That’s still true when you’re not in Tokyo.”

It’s too much to not to, so he reaches and takes her hand. “This makes things awkward.”

“Huh?”

“My cram school is in Tokyo.”

She’s on him again, all force and warmth, and he swears Hecate must be out or this girl is simply _angry. “_ Ren Amamiya, you are the _worst_ secret boyfriend a girl could have!”

He kisses her on the nose. “I love you too.”

* * *

“No! Say it ain’t so! You did _not_!”

This is, maybe, the complete opposite reaction than he expected. He’s nervous to press on, to offer anything to help her feel better because it was his impression that she should _feel great_ about this. Had he been a complete idiot for the past five years?

“I mean…” She pokes at her silky tofu. It’s nowhere near as good as Marukyu, but he does not need to tell her that. Her sunglasses slide a bit down her nose, but she flicks it easily with the grace of a true professional. “You guys were wedding material.”

“You mean marriage material?”

“Do I?” She stiffens before laughing. “No. I don’t think so. But definitely _wedding_. It would be gorgeous. Very classic and elegant. Yukiko was always—it wasn’t because of Chie, was it?”

He practically spat out his tea. “Excuse me?”

“They always seemed super close.” The woman took a big bite of her tofu and pushed back a tuft of red-brown hair behind her kerchief. “But then again, I was shipping Chie and Yosuke _forever_.”

“Rise, you’d have all of us paired off with each other.”

“Four out of eight isn’t bad. Oh, but I guess we’re down to two.” Her lips purse, and though it’s hard to tell under the big sunglasses and head covering, he can tell that she is thoughtful. Shoulders sagging, she reaches across the café’s table and touches his hand, her long nails digging slightly into his skin. “They’re still calloused.”

He swallows. “I still train, you know. Have to.”

“Still have glasses too? It’s been five years, Yu.”

“You don’t have them?”

“Well the glasses were my _whole_ ability.” She sinks back, breaking their contact and making his headspace just that clearer. “Of course, I have them. I’m kidding about all that. Five years isn’t that long to forget.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Or lose contact with good friends.”

He feels the smile grow on his face. There was always something so _easy_ about this girl. “I agree.”

“Or be so completely out of the loop that you don’t know that your teammates broke up _three years ago._ ” She slides the frames down so he gets a hint of her light brown eyes. “You don’t need sympathy to get a coffee date with me, _Senpai_.”

He’s frozen. Shocked. Yukiko and he had agreed to quietly part ways when she stayed to run the Amagi Inn and it was clear he wasn’t leaving Tokyo. Of course, Yosuke knew. And there was no way Yukiko wouldn’t tell Chie, but…“I can explain. Rise…”

“I paired _us_ by the way. In every scenario.” She’s flushed with happiness, of excitement, and of, he’s sure, laughter of what must be the dumbstruck look on his face. “Amagi-senpai can have Teddie.”

* * *

“You have a meeting at 2:30PM with the producer of that romantic comedy you auditioned for three weeks ago.”

She rubs harshly at her eyes, teeth loosening on the pen cap she was chewing on as she scribbles. “What about my meeting with Niishi? I have some comments for the new Featherman…”

“Pushed to Thursday.”

Her head is killing her. She drops an AlphaSeltza into the glass of newly poured water. “Okay. So then the Okumura meeting…”

“Tomorrow at 12PM.”

“Satoshi, I hope you mean cancelled.” She waves off the waitress for what must have been the fifth time in two minutes. Yes, she is nursing this cup of coffee until it kills her, but she’ll order food soon. She flashes a smile that she hopes communicates this promise. The café is more crowded than normal, and she fidgets through her purse while cradling her cellphone between her chin and neck. “I’m not doing the commercial.”

“Takeba-san, it’s polite to at least hear the offer.”

“Fine. Okay.” The pain is worse now, the pressure seeming to permeate from her temples down her neck until she practically feels it in her bones. And then there is something different. Some sort of, not relief but insane comfort. Some familiarity that rings through her and drags her completely away from her phone call. It’s distracting and, in a way, emotionally gut-wrenching, and she lowers the phone completely to look.

She can feel it. Feel _him_ and it is overwhelming every part of her. She stands hurriedly, drawing the crowded café’s attention, and then there are whispers about what she is doing and, worse, who she is, but there is no part of her that can even begin to prioritize that.

This café is small, and blue hair should stand out. And she looks again and again and again because she knows it is him, but _where the hell is he?_

She knocks into white-wired chairs as she looks. That feeling of...of weird power is getting stronger and stronger, and it is bizarrely eclipsing but still duller than she expects. It is him and not him, and as she stares at the couple, she’s flushed with embarrassment and strange coffee spilled on her pink sweater. “Oh, um, sorry.”

“It’s okay. This happens all the time.” The girl in sunglasses answers. Her smile is weak, vacant, and familiar. “What do you want me to sign?”

“You should ask for a trade.” Her silver-haired boyfriend responds, and there is nothing about his face that is weak. Everything is potent and sharp edges, and she almost looks away.

“Huh?” The obviously disguised girl glances between the two of them. “Do you two know each other?”

They don’t. They really don’t. It’s the energy that is similar, but now that she’s here, it’s still different from him. “No, no. I’m sorry. I confused you with someone else.”

“Wait, him? You came here to speak to _him_?”

The man chuckled. “Sorry to steal your thunder, Rise.”

“What is mine, is yours.” The strength is back, and the girl named Rise removes the sunglasses from her face. She’s pretty, but other than that, unfamiliar. “I think I know you. Yukari Takeba?”

“Yes. Um, sorry. Have we met? I can…I can still sign something for you. My pen…” She reaches for the purse that isn’t there. In fact, all of her belongings are tables away. Her eyes refocus. The whispers are louder, the crowd more aggressive. “Sorry I was actually on a call.”

“I’ll get Yu one another time. I’m sure our paths will intersect. Rise Kujikawa.” Rise holds out her hand, and the full name clicks. Yukari would have normally calmed with the kinship that is celebrity, but her mind is already on overdrive, too overtly concentrated on the innate, immense power humming around them all.

 _Yu…_ She must be staring. There are coughs behind her—probably fans—and it takes everything in her to nod and turn back to her table. She shakes her head politely to the fans asking for photos and gathers her things. _He’s gone. He’s gone._

She had accepted that, hadn’t she? Maybe. Yes. She accepted his death—all death—but acceptance didn’t take away emptiness, did it?

_Seven years, Yuka-tan._

There’s a tug on her sleeve and Rise is standing, holding out a pre-printed card with bold, large western script. “This way you’ll owe me one.” She winks and sits backs down, and Yukari slips the autograph in her purse, eyes still on Yu.

Words aren’t easy, and she bows slightly before rushing back out, sweeping on her own pair of sunglasses and a white bucket hat to hide her appearance on the street. There’s a taxi outside and she takes it immediately, rolling down the window to try and cool the sudden heat. Her hands slip over her phone. There’s hesitation there and worry, but she needs to know, and she is the only one she can think of who will care about this just as much.

 **_Yukari:_ ** _What if there are others like him? …Like you?_

She doesn’t have to explain anything more. It is only seconds before there is a reply, clear and pointed.

 **_Aigis:_ ** _Please make no plans today._

* * *

The drive back to Tokyo is…silent. She is incredibly unsettled, anxious, and dying for someone to talk about _something_ so she can stop thinking about the boy who is kilometers and kilometers farther than she would like. _My nails are uneven._ She taps them against the glass lightly. Makoto glances back from the driver’s seat. The sudden noise probably shocks her.

“I had…fun today.”

Her even, low voice wakes the whole car. Futaba is suddenly reminded that she is _Futaba_ and flips out a laptop. “I left a camera in his room. I can hack into it right…”

“Do not do that.” Queen’s voice is icy. “Disable it.”

“But how else do we…”

“I don’t know Futaba, maybe a somewhat normal way like…. _video chat?”_ Ryuji turns from the passenger seat to give Futaba a proper stare. “Let the dude do his thing.”

Her stomach became unsettled. Ann looks to the backseat. Futaba is hesitantly typing. Yusuke is leaning on the window, asleep. The hermit meets her stare. “May I help you?”

Probably. No. It’s risky to ask here, but Ann swallows down her hesitation. “How much of Leblanc did you actually bug?”

“Enough.”

“Enough?”

“Yes.” She pushes the laptop close. Their eye contact is dangerous, and the blonde model curses herself for being so naïve. “Want to explain why you’re asking?”

“I’m assuming that all of our conversations are deeply encrypted,” Makoto interrupts. “The Phantom Thieves are still vigilantes. My sister says there is a small task force still trying to identify us.”

Ryuji’s gulp is audible. “Eh…how small?”

“Understaffed. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“There’s still suspicion that we murdered my father. The true culprit is…hard to identify.” Haru folds her hands politely.

“That reminds me. There is also a team looking for Akechi.”

“Fuck.” Ryuji pounds the dashboard, making the whole van jump and waking the artist in the back row. “Fuck, Akechi.”

“He was a famous detective.” Makoto is, without fault, logical. “His sudden disappearance from the public eye is entirely too suspicious.”

Ryuji scowls. “How do we drop a tip, Makoto? I’m thinking anonymous tipper explains that fake detective kills self.”

Silence again. No one knows how to feel about Goro Akechi.

Ann’s own viewpoint rocks between _he deserved it_ to _how could we have saved him_ way too frequently. It is sad. That is the conclusion she allows to be her constant. It is sad that someone died before they could be better.

“Well, you are at least moderately accurate.” Yusuke yawns before slipping back into sleep once more.

* * *

There are multiple missed calls from her agent when she finally gets back to her parents’ apartment. It is empty—her parents are back in Europe running a show—and feels colder than normal. The air conditioner was left on and it’s a chilling 15 degrees. Ann fumbles to her room and slips under the covers of her bed. She reflexively reaches for her phone and deliberately does not call her agent. “Futaba knows.”

“Of course, she does.” Ren’s voice is hurried. She hears him rushing away from what she assumes is the kitchen, the clamor of pots and pans banging in the background. She pulls the phone away from her face and sees that it’s only 7. “Though I made sure there are gaps in her feed for certain…moments.”

“Ren, you should have told me.”

“You would be worried.”

“But now I’m mad _and_ worried.”

“Don’t be,” he says it simply, fully, in that convincing way that almost verges on Marin Karin. And she has to remind herself that Joker is a good leader, yes, but also a _great liar_.

“You’re full of it.”

“Hm?”

“You’re the one that wanted to hide this.” Ann huffs and she doesn’t want to sound angry, but she does. She is emotionally worn and anxious, and she just really, really misses him _._ “Who exactly did you want to hide it from?”

“Ann…”

“I know Makoto had a crush on you. And Haru? Haru couldn’t _be more_ …”

“Ann, stop.”

She did. She hates herself right now, hates being the jealous secret girlfriend, but what is a _secret girlfriend_ anyway? “I’m not sorry.” She starts but realizes that also comes across too angry when really she is just hurt. “I just…I just…”

“I know they did. It was implied a lot, and I made sure we were just friends.”

“But you and me…”

“You implied…” He hesitates. She can hear him slunk down, his tone going soft and almost shy. “You implied not a lot.” He laughs. “I was scared shitless on that roof.”

“You seemed so confident.”

“Didn’t I?” Another laugh. “I’m freaking out too. I don’t know how to do this well. I’m open to suggestions.”

She pauses and pushes the comforter down from her body, suddenly warm. Her number one suggestion would be _Stay at Shujin_ but that’s not possible. “We can talk a lot. Like this. I love talking to you. Even when I’m angry.”

“Are you angry?”

“No,” she admits. “I’m frustrated.”

“I am too. Anything else?”

“We can tell everyone.” She breathes hard. The pause is longer than she would like, and she finds herself sliding up to lean on her headboard. “I mean, before Futaba does.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“When I’m back. I’d like to do it in person. What’s your week looking like?”

Their conversation veers back into normalcy—into light-hearted jokes and Ann’s tempered excitement bouncing off Ren’s solid wall of interest and damn good listening skills. She talks about her upcoming gigs and how she hadn’t heard anything from that one acting audition, which was annoying, maybe, but the script wasn’t really her thing anyway.

“Are you home alone?”

“Until the end of the month.” She’s used to it by now, but Ren sighs. He’s concerned for her, and her chest flutters and warms from it. “Shiho’s coming over next week. We’re having a sleepover.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve told her about you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Only if she does.”

Ann laughs and falls back on her pillow. Is this what having a boyfriend is like? “She likes you. She never thought you were a bad guy. You sound tired.”

It’s an understatement. Ren sounds beyond exhausted, and he tries to correct it. “I’m okay. Just making curry for my parents.”

“And coffee?”

“They’re more tea people, unfortunately. But I should…I should go.”

She doesn’t want him to. The distance feels larger somehow, now that she lays here alone. “Tell your parents I said hi. Oh, and Morgana too!”

“Of course.”

“I love you, Ren.”

“Love you too. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

She nods before speaking, forgetting briefly that he was not next to her. Then there is sudden silence everywhere, and she feels anxious, alone. She plays the voicemail from her agent, and it’s nothing she doesn’t know already. Appointments. Meetings. She logs it all in her smartphone and then decides that she really deserves a bath.

* * *

There are scripts all over her coffee table. She starts to neatly pile them all, earmarking a few pages, and then falls on the coach. Her apartment is small—a studio in the heart of Chiyoda. The walls are practically bare. The built-in shelves, on the other hand, are piled high with books and knick-knacks. Picture frames of Port Island. Of Gekkoukan. Just landscapes and buildings—people would bring about too many questions.

Her phone buzzes and she doesn’t even start to check it. She gets up from the couch, unlocks the door, and starts to pace as she just waits. And waits.

“Yukari-san?” The door to her apartment is pushed open slightly and then she is rushed by a firm, strong hug. “It has been entirely too long since I have seen you! Look at you! I am always astonished how quickly living things grow in such small amounts of time.” Aigis’ grip is strong, maybe too strong, but Yukari tries to match it back equally. She is then pushed back by the robot, metal hands on her shoulders. “Your hair is shorter again?”

“Fits better under a helmet. How are you? How’s Mitsuru?”

“She is well. I hesitated to tell her of your text message, however.”

That was probably for the best. This could be nothing. She could be overreacting, misinterpreting all of this into something it isn’t. Aigis doesn’t say as such, but she is most always composed. She waits for Yukari to offer her a seat before sitting, patient.

She hasn’t seen Aigis since their Gekkoukan five-year reunion, and even that was short-lived. Port Island was always hard for her, though she had tried and tried to make the last year something special or, at least, something that would lighten the incredible heartache that junior year had brought. And though senior year had its ups and downs—and her and Aigis _definitely_ had their ups and downs—she is ecstatic to see her good friend again. “The Kirijo Group?”

“We’ve had some simple missions here or there. Nothing that called for the full need of my abilities or really any Persona abilities to be honest with you. Simply anomalies.”

“Anomalies?” She folds her hands on her lap. There was a part of her that ached to be involved again, but she thought the reminders would have been too strong. “…where?”

“A small town two hours and thirteen minutes away from here, and most recently here in Tokyo as well. Though none of it was similar to what we experienced at SEES. All anomaly readings had vanished before we could properly assess the situation.”

Yukari sits beside the machine. Her tea had long gone cold, but she picks the mug up anyway and takes a sip. It’s bitter, chilling, but she really needs something to keep her hands busy. “I suppose it’s good that it was handled.”

“It is.”

“But not that…not good that you don’t know what it is.” She really should put on the electric kettle, but, no, no. She can see the anxiousness in Aigis’ face, which is exactly what she expected. Her text was cryptic, purposely so. _Necessarily_ so since Yukari has no real, concrete way to describe it. “I don’t know how to explain this to you.”

“That is okay. Please do try.”

It is strange, their relationship. Yukari used to think about it often, but all of this was pushed aside for so many years that thinking about it again is like a freight train. There was everything with Tartarus and Gekkoukan and Apathy Syndrome that bonded them and the rest of the Execution Squad, but they both know what their common ground is. “It wasn’t Makoto.”

Yukari breaths hard as she says it. She can’t decide if she is upset or relieved by it, but it is true, and she anxiously looks at Aigis for her reaction. The machine blinks, voice uneven. “Then what led you to text message me?”

“It was _like_ Makoto. It was just some stranger, Aigis, but I felt this…weird power from him.”

“Power of the Wildcard?”

“Maybe.” She shakes her head. “No, not maybe. Yes. It was that.”

She is completely shocked to see that Aigis’ face is not happy or excited or even curious. The machine, now better at displaying human emotions, looks stricken. The exact reaction has Yukari moving closer to grasp her hand. “Aigis? Aigis!”

“You are certain about this, Yukari-san?” Aigis stands with such speed and misdirection that she almost knocks over the coffee table. “You have 100% confirmation of his Wildcard capabilities?

Yukari sniffs. “Well of course I don’t have _that_. I wasn’t about to hand him a gun and ask him to shoot himself in the head at Chagall.” Her snide tone fades seeing her friend still incredibly unsettled. “I’m not trying to…I know what you’re thinking.”

The look Aigis threw her is of clear disbelief. “How _could_ you?”

“I know back then I…I would do anything for him. I missed him more than anything. I still do. And yes, maybe I’m jumping at the very, very small chance that this could _mean something_. But I also think it’s just weird, okay? I thought…” She leans back on the couch. Why was she still crying about this? “I thought you would understand.”

“Yukari-san…” Aigis sits back down. The fear and utter distress on her face is gone, and she hugs her again. “Of course, I do. I loved him too.”

Loved? That sounds strange to her. The tears are rampant, free flowing. She wonders briefly if it were possible for Aigis to short circuit but dismisses it quickly. Yukari wants to speak again, apologize, maybe, but she always wants to apologize to Aigis. Nothing can actually come out except for a wet groan that sounds more like snot than words. Aigis pushes her back, worried. “That is an abnormal sound you are producing.”

“I…” She sounds like a frog. The perplexed look on Aigis’ face causes Yukari to laugh, stopping the crying and snot for now. “I’ve missed you.”

“Please ignore my reaction before. I was certain you did not know what I was thinking for it is unknown knowledge to all.”

Yukari shifts back. “Unknown knowledge? What…what happened?”

The distraught appearance makes its way through Aigis’ body. Though the machine could not breathe, Yukari can see Aigis’ chest flatten. “I no longer have his abilities.”


	2. Linkage

Naoto Shirogane hates Tokyo.

It was a slow, encroaching distaste, a crawling feeling of discontent and frustration that fully blossomed into hatred two weeks ago. She had been on a case for months now, and with no end in sight, her annoyance with her small apartment and coworkers and unorganized case files came to an ugly, large head. She ditches the station early. Rise and she are both suddenly free tonight, and the pop idol claims she has _a very special surprise!_ Naoto does not like surprises, and she typically hates surprises from Rise even more.

But she’s hungry and tired and, shockingly, could use a drink. Rise is usually up for at least some sort of clear alcohol.

She suggests a kaiseki restaurant but is immediately shot down and told to meet at an Italian restaurant instead. The change in venue is surprising. She has met with Rise once a week ever since she was placed on a case here, but the food is usually more traditional. Naoto finds it hard to complain, however, when the restaurant is walking distance from the police station.

_Perhaps it has to do with that surprise…_

She has never met any of Rise’s boyfriends before, but all the emojis and misspellings make the detective suspicious. There is a deep, girlish part of Naoto that wants to text back _About time_ , but the detective practically laughs at herself for even thinking of it. Instead her smartphone is littered with three missed calls, all from the same number. She calls him back immediately.

“Sorry for missing your call. Have you finished yet?”

He sighs deeply on the other side of the line. “Nah. That’s why I’m calling ya. Think it’ll be a few more days. It’s a huge order and my sewing machine’s busted.”

She’s even more irritated now, and her hatred for Tokyo suddenly multiplies. But that isn’t what he needs to hear. Not at all. “I’m so sorry.”

“Psh. I’m _more_ sorry. It’s been too long, Naoto. Miss you like hell.”

The words are warm to her stomach and chest. She knows her face must look incredibly flushed. “I, uh, miss you too. I’m seeing Rise for dinner.” She stops outside as she approaches the restaurant. There’s a mist of rain starting, and Naoto tilts the brim of her hat partially down as she speaks. “I’ll tell her you said hello again.”

“And say we’ll all catch up as soon as I get there!”

“Hmph. I will.”

“Love you, Naoto.”

“I love you too, Ka…”

“HI KANJI-KUN!”

The voice is sharp, high-pitched, and definitely her friend. Naoto releases the phone immediately and hands it off to the pop idol who had managed to surprise her in the now sudden rain.

Rise is happily giggling to a probably very confused Kanji, and then frowns as Naoto’s boyfriend more than likely explains his delay to Tokyo.

“Wow, she’s more excited to talk on the phone than see you.”

“Well, we have been seeing each other pretty regularly, Yu…Yu?” Naoto turns to meet the familiar voice and quickly hugs the silver-haired man with the clear, wide-brimmed umbrella. His white coat is slightly wet, but she pays it no mind. “What a surprise! I inferred that Rise was going to bring a guest, but I had no idea it was you.”

“Hm, really?” Rise hands back the locked smartphone. It seems she had wished Kanji goodbye for her. Great. “I thought the heart emojis would be a clue.”

“I just thought it would be someone…new.”

“New? No, never. Anyway, I thought we’d all check out this place. It’s close to the Diet so I hear lots of rich politicians come here! Oh. Almost forgot.” Rise takes out a blonde wig and a glasses case from her bag. “Hold this, Naoto?”

The detective obeys and watches as the singer ties her hair into a flat bun and flips the wig over her head. She takes the glasses back quickly, cradling them delicately. It takes Naoto a brief second to recognize them. “Are those your glasses for the TV World?”

“I mean, they work fine, don’t they? How recognizable am I?”

“Didn’t you make fun of me earlier for mentioning that?” Yu crosses his arms and flattens a flyaway piece of fake, blonde hair. The gesture does not go unnoticed by either Naoto or Rise. “And what’s with the wig?”

“Oh! Got it from Teddie. I just don’t want to be interrupted tonight. Especially after that weird coffee date we had.”

Naoto blinks. “Coffee date?”

“We met up for coffee. I’m finally done with exams and Rise said she was in town.”

Rise wrapped a finger around a fake strand. “I’ve been harassing him for…”

“Years?” Naoto offers.

“Maybe. Probably. Man, Yu. Am I that annoying about it?”

Naoto refrains from answering again. “Maybe we just go in and get a…”

“He’s finally admitted to breaking up with Yukiko, Naoto. I think that leaves the door open.”

The detective finds herself suddenly not hungry at all. In fact, she finds herself wanting to text Kanji and ask for some emergency call to drag her out of this situation. She looks at her former leader, and to a stranger, he would seem expressionless. The rain does nothing but make his already silver features even greyer, and the idol, for all her joking and flirting is now awkward at his silence.

_Interesting._

And though a part of her (the part that remembers Rise sending rather explicit text messages to Kanji two years ago) wants to watch the idol sweat, Naoto sighs before moving away from Yu and opening another door.

To the restaurant. Away from this conversation.

At the table, all of Rise’s talk and banter are redirected to her and Kanji and, embarrassingly, how _they_ are the epitome of marriage material (Naoto does not want to dig into why that makes Yu almost slip and cut himself with a butter knife). And it is now up to Naoto to carry the conversation of her teammates and friends forward from anything that could delve into Rise becoming suddenly shy and Yu becoming… well, Yu.

“How were the exams, Yu?”

“I think they went well. Ever think about going to the public side of crime fighting, Naoto?”

She smiles but shakes her head. “The line of Shirogane detectives is a legacy I must uphold, but I do not mind working with the public sector every now and then.”

“Is it easier now that you are older?” Rise asks.

Naoto wishes. Sure, her hair is longer, her clothes better fitting, but she is still young and female in a more or less patriarchal society. That may be too heavy for this dinner though. “A little. To be honest, I bring much of my work back to my apartment.”

“She won’t spill any details about the case she’s working on, and I can totally tell it’s stressing her out.” Rise pours out more of the bottle of white to each of them before refilling her own glass. “Maybe the Investigation Team can help?”

“I do have some time before I get my exam results.” Yu’s face is looser, lighter. They are quickly moving through their second bottle of wine, and Naoto is suddenly reminded of the time she found a “tipsy” Investigation Team in a seedy Club Escapade. “If you could use the help, I could use the internship.”

That actually isn’t a terrible idea. “I’ll have to run it by the team, but we need extra hands. We’re stretched pretty thinly, and to be quite honest, the case has lost priority since falling out of the public eye.”

Yu flipped his bangs back a bit. “So, it was in the public eye?”

“Oh! I knew it! I knew it! It’s about that vigilante group, isn’t it? A-ha! I called it.” Her shyness fades for a moment, and Rise touches Yu’s arm. “Have you heard of them? The Phantom Thieves?”

“Rise…” Naoto is too late to stop her friends.

Yu frowns. “The ones who…steal hearts?”

“Bingo. Isn’t that completely ridiculous? What a weird concept, right?”

Yu nods in agreement, eyes dashing back and forth from the hand on his arm to the now blonde idol. “It is.”

“Mhm, but you know _what else_ is a weird concept?”

“Rise…” Naoto almost begs.

“Personas.”

Yu’s grey pupils start to dilate. Naoto, tired of shooting down her friend every time she had tried to bring it up, allows Rise to finish her thought. _Maybe that will get her to stop._

Rise is ecstatic that she has the floor and that their pasta and a new bottle of wine are brought to the table. She leans forward, giddy. “Okay so.” Her voice is a loud, stage whisper. “The Phantom Thieves have apparently been responsible for some high-profile people suddenly having a… what was it?”

“Change of heart,” Naoto finishes. Her need for one drink has quickly turned into a need for four.

The idol nods. “Change of heart. Know the details?”

Yu waves his hand. “I’ve been more focused on school to be honest. A lot of my classmates had their swag though.”

“Some of it is cute! But anyway, I was trying to make sense of how you get these massively bad people to just completely change their attitudes and it got me thinking about Shadows.”

Naoto has heard all of this before, and as much as she likes to think Yu is simply appeasing Rise, the firm look of his brow has her second guessing. “You think they faced themselves?”

Rise nods and takes a bite of penne. “I mean, facing ourselves was pretty awful. Well maybe not for you, Yu, but for everyone else…well I really only saw Naoto, but I remember _mine_.”

“I can confirm it was ‘pretty awful’.”

“Thanks, Naoto. And think about it. We didn’t even do anything _bad_. What if you had to face the truth that your whole career was plagiarized or that you were some seedy politician or…”

“A serial killer.” Yu is thoughtful. “Remember Adachi’s letter? His confession?”

Naoto’s mind snapped. How could she ever forget that? “Okay, I’ll bite, Rise. Let us assume for a moment that the Phantom Thieves utilize Personas for their operations.”

Rise nods vigorously, red-faced.

“They would then have to utilize the TV World for their operations as well.”

“Well, yeah. We can’t use our Personas in the real world.”

“Then would they also be _kidnapping_ these high-profile, corrupt individuals? I would imagine such individuals have elaborate security provisions and are already wary because of their criminal activities.”

Yu starts to finally agree. “And wasn’t the first instance that, uh, school? I always thought the first case was isolated. Just a bunch of high school kids.”

Naoto agrees. “That is the common hypothesis.”

“Yeah a bunch of _high school kids with Personas_.” Rise lays her hands on the table. “I rest my case.”

Naoto no longer knows what to think, if she were being completely honest. The Thieves case is…weird to put it lightly, and it’s hard for her to push away the incident in Inaba. How had she gone about solving that case? Also being incredibly confused and not understanding anyone’s motivations or methods. But she couldn’t table all hard detective work and claim it was Personas every time things were a little complicated. That is the point of _being_ a detective, after all.

Perhaps it is because she is beyond frustrated with her own case or perhaps it is Yu’s support, but she nods before taking a bite of the white branzino on her plate. “We can look into it.”

Rise jostles the table, practically jumping for joy. “Really?”

Yu shrugs. “We can always ask Teddie.”

“Teddie?”

“To see if someone’s been in the TV World recently.”

Naoto’s mind flickers again. “Rise has her glasses on now.” She swallows, hesitant to follow through with this, but carefully removes a black case from her work bag. “And I have mine. We could go…”

There’s a flurry. The idol raises her hand quickly, blonde wig hair flying as she flags down their waiter. “Check! Check, please!”

* * *

He smells like curry, which is markedly different than his normal smell of coffee. He lays his head on the pillow of his bed, his _actual_ bed, but can’t seem to get comfortable. Ren twists under his comforter, sits up and fluffs his pillow. He gets up and walks down all the way to the kitchen for a glass of water, and then returns to see a rather annoyed Morgana sitting idly on his bed.

“You know I have an early bedtime.”

Ren absolutely knows that. He scratches his hair, guilty, and downs the rest of the glass. “Sorry, Morgana.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it Lady Ann?”

He waits, gauging the cat’s face and expression before nodding. “A bit.”

The black cat’s tail whips back and forth. “I miss her as well. It must be even harder for you.”

“That’s…that’s big of you. I can’t say how grateful I am that…”

“How could I fault you for loving such a meowverlous girl? We’ve talked about this before, leader, but it’s true. I’m… this. I know that now, and that’s okay. I like being me, and if Lady Ann…if _Ann_ ends up with someone, I’d want it to be someone like you.”

Ren knows he hates it, but he sits down next to the cat and scratches his head. His hand is batted away quickly, and Ren recoils back a bit, laughing. “Really fishing for some fatty tuna, aren’t ya?”

“Always. Go to sleep.”

He’s still anxious and scared as he lays back down. He feels like this whole last year he has been constantly shuffled. Here to Tokyo to juvie to Tokyo to back here. He glances at the pile of books for the national exam and gets queasy. Now that the Thieves were over, he has to start thinking about pasting together the rest of a rather shattered life.

_You were acquitted._

He knows that. His fantastic friends had him acquitted. Record so clean that it squeaked.

_You have perfect scores on the last three exams and a really hot girlfriend._

He really shouldn’t be so unsettled. His life, though ambiguous, is going significantly better than it was over a year ago. He knows he wants to move to Tokyo. He knows he is more powerful than he could ever even dream of (both here _and_ in the now nonexistent Metaverse), but this unease still swarms him.

And then, it hit him. The dread and fear and foreboding… _what if it’s not about him_?

Ren scrambles as he sees his phone light up. The vibration and ring are off, but he picks up the phone when the Caller ID flashed, exiting towards his private bathroom as to not disturb Morgana. “Makoto?”

“Hi, Ren. Sorry it’s so late.”

“It’s no problem.” He rubs at his eyes in the mirror. “What’s up?”

“I, uh…I uh don’t know how to say this.”

Ren hates the worried nature of his friend’s voice. It takes _a lot_ to shake any Niijima. “Direct and straight. We’ll deal with the reactions after the fact.”

“Right, Ren…right. I was at dinner with my sister and…and I thought maybe I was just mishearing a rowdy table, but she confirmed it. They were talking about the Thieves.”

That isn’t so uncommon. It’s becoming rarer now that the Thieves have put an end to their activities. He waits for Makoto to continue.

“Which is not too abnormal, I admit. Though our fame has decreased recently.”

He smirks. He and Makoto are usually on the same wavelength. “Was it something they said?”

“Yes.” She breathes hard. “Absolutely. One of them seemed to have an almost accurate description of our methods.”

He thinks he mishears, or Makoto is exaggerating, but none of those things sound right. Ren leans on the bathroom counter. “How accurate?”

“Well, she…she mentioned Personas.”

Ren drops his phone in the sink.

* * *

“When did this happen?”

“This morning. I noticed something was off with my structure at 8:57 AM and attempted to call Orpheus.”

Yukari feels herself shake. “And he…”

“He did not come when summoned. Athena was the only Persona accessible.”

Her face fell into her hands. Yukari rubbed at her eyes, exhausted, confused. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I have several theories.” Aigis pauses. “None of which I have shared before.”

“You haven’t had a lot of time to share to be fair, Aigis.”

“But our mobile devices make sharing instantaneous. I have had plenty of opportunities to inform SEES.”

SEES. Yukari’s fingers drift over her coffee table, as if she’s reaching for the word, trying to touch it, make sense of it. There is a weird foreboding when she thinks of SEES, and though things ended right, she is hesitant to bring her old teammates back into this at all. “Sorry, right, you have. What are your…” She wants to hit herself. Her sensing Makoto. Aigis losing her powers. “…You thought he was back?”

“I thought it could be one of many possibilities.”

“He’s dead.” Her voice still hitches.

“So perhaps this person you met inherited his Wildcard abilities?”

That could be it. Yukari’s whole body feels sore, and she realizes that she has somehow spilled tea on her scripts. Her eyes stray to her full-size bed, her white nightstand and the drawer with a silver case inside. “I need to cancel my meetings tomorrow. Are you okay sleeping on the couch?”

“Are we to be roommates once again?” The robot’s eyes light up, and as deeply concerned and tired Yukari is, she can’t help but grin at her friend.

“If you’d like.”

The robot smiles grandly and reaches to pull Yukari into another hug, but the actress moves back. “Aigis, I imagine we don’t have too much time until Mitsuru and Akihiko expect you back.”

Blue eyes look down. “It’s true. Both Mitsuru-san and Akihiko-san like reports of my whereabouts, ideally before I am about. Any idea where we can begin to look for the Wildcard?”

“Some idea.” She gets up and walks to her purse and finds the autograph Rise Kujikawa had given her. Yukari glows at the easy excuse and quickly sends an email to her manager.

Maybe Risette wants to break into TV. 

* * *

“You are…” Rise walks into his apartment, almost dazed. His exam books are stacked in a neat pile on the small, kitchen table. His couch cushions are perfectly stood up and aligned. She turns as she flips through a cookbook on an end table tabbed with notes and recipe edits. His hiragana is utterly refined. “…incredibly neat.”

“You have kept it up well.” Naoto removes her shoes and immediately walks to the flat screen TV, most likely sizing it up. “I remember when Kanji and I helped you moved in.”

“I still owe you a dinner.” University consumed his whole life for so long. And though he may not have maintained his romantic relationship with Yukiko, he can feel the solid bonds between his friends now, even years later.

Rise opens cabinets, drawers, and looks at the plates drying on his drainboard. “Like absurdly neat.” She walks down the hall and switches on the light to his small bathroom. “How many hair products do you own?!”

Yu doesn’t reply and instead starts pouring them all glasses of water. “My other glasses should be in my bedroom.”

“Oh! I’ll get them!”

His chest jerks back. He sets down his glass on a coaster and dashes to meet Rise towards the back of his apartment. The idol has already made her way into the bedroom, blonde wig forgotten on his floor. Rise lifts a pillow, flashes Yu a smile, and then moves to the ground to seemingly look under his mattress.

“Uh, need help with anything?”

“Nah, just curious.” The idol stood up again and sat on his bed. “Surprising. No stash, huh?”

“Need a way to pass the time?”

Rise stiffens and shakes her head madly. Her shoulders hunch together, and she folds out her hands, gripping the navy bedspread underneath her. “You…you’re really something, you know that?” The idol laughs a bit to herself and turns to face him. “I was just thinking about the TV World. I’m pretty sure I can get us out if we can’t find Teddie. It won’t be like when we went skiing.”

He swallows at the memory. Yukiko had caught a slight cold that day, and Rise had somehow convinced him to go skiing with her alone. She had been… a lot to handle when he was seventeen—still is a lot to handle when he is twenty-three. But as he watches her easily take the black case from his nightstand and hand the glasses to him, the rumbling of an old crush seems to grip at his skin. “No katana, Senpai?”

“Raises too many questions. I’m only renting this place. We’ll have to rely on our Personas and Naoto’s gun.”

She nods. “I know we’ll be fine.”

“Rise?”

Her head cocks to the side, and she is analyzing him. It’s what she does, after all, and she carefully moves closer to him and lays a hand on his forehead. “Have you been sleeping well?”

The hand is soft, warm, and Yu moves it to be on his chest. He catches her exhale, notices the red start to bubble and spread across her cheeks. Eye contact is hopeless at this point, but Yu still feels the need to tell her. “I’ve missed you.”

“Naoto is waiting, you know.” Rise doesn’t take her hand away, but she is still creating space. Her red-brown hair sticks to her forehead, sweat crowning her hairline. “And I know I joke and everything Yu, but I can’t do this again. Do you understand?”

He stares at the now frazzled girl. “Uh no?”

“Let’s just focus on our mission, okay? It’s almost midnight.”

Yu agrees, not exactly sure where that conversation was leading them anyway. Naoto sits on his couch, seemingly texting on her cellphone. Her face is cool, emotionless, but she only looks at Rise. “Is everything fine?”

“Yes! We found the glasses. Let’s get to it!”

Yu stands in front of his wall mounted TV and, unflinching, places his hand through the screen. The feeling is weird, fuzzy yet slick, as if he were covering his arm in warm, bubbling oil. “Everyone ready?” It is something he will never get used to.

“Rise, you’re sure you can find a way out if we can’t find Teddie?”

“Definitely. We may end up back in Inaba’s Junes, but we’ll be out.”

Something on Naoto’s face implies that she wouldn’t actually mind that. Yu does not wait any longer and pushes his body through the TV. The feeling is a head rush. A full-frontal assault on his whole body. The static seems to pour through him until he falls, butt first, on a yellow floor.

There’s a high-pitched yell before Rise falls in front of him, and then Naoto comes crashing behind. Yu stands first, brushing off his dark jeans. “Everyone okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…ouch. Did it always hurt like this?”

“Unfortunately.” Naoto re-holsters her gun and pushes the glasses over her face. “This is strange.”

“Hm? How so Naoto?” Rise is settling herself as well, stretching and most likely trying to get Kouzeon ready.

“There’s not a lot of fog.”

It is something Yu notices almost immediately. His glasses are useless here, the bright yellow air of the TV World seeming so airy that he can see signs of Maru Q and a laboratory deep in the distance.

“Uh, didn’t it go away when we defeated Izanami?” Rise offers.

“Yes, but this isn’t the world we left either. It’s closer to before.”

“Teddie would have warned us though, right?” Rise’s voice quakes. “If something changes here, he would know.”

Yu is uneasy. His fingers flex and grip at the air, and he really misses his katana. “Rise, can you scan the area?”

The idol nods and a blue card appears in front of her. With a large crack, the Lovers tarot shatters and Kouzeon appears in a blue light behind her. “That was easier than I thought it would be.” She turns and waves to Kouzeon. “Alright, let’s…wait is that...”

Naoto is already turning, handgun aimed. There is a woman there, draped in blue, hair up and perfect as she stands with her arms crossed. Yu gestures for Naoto to lower her gun, and Kouzeon also disappears. The woman is standing next to a simple, glowing door, and Yu flinches at the looks on his teammates’ faces. “You, uh, you can see that?”

“Um _yeah_. How could we miss it?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Naoto gives him a puzzling stare. “Excuse me?”

“Never mind.” He walks up to the Velvet Room attendant, her usual smile absent. Yu fumbles for his pocket and almost curses when he remembers the Velvet Key is still in his apartment. “Did you come out to let me in?”

Her face is pointed, and she glances back to Rise and Naoto with almost relief. “I am glad to see your bonds have not been broken.”

“I am too. Does Igor need to…”

Her hand pushes back his own as he reaches for the blue doorknob. “Please do not go inside.”

“Huh?”

Her perfect face looks strained, almost broken. Her long fingernails are squeezing into his hand. “Please just go back to your world. Don’t open this door.”

As she says it, he notices how strange this door is. It is too plain; missing the elaborate woodwork and curls he is more accustomed to. And as he approaches, he has the aching feeling that the other side does not lead to any sort of vehicle. “What’s going on?”

His teammates shuffle closer to him. Naoto’s hand is on her gun. Rise squirms, uncomfortable. “She’s right, Yu. Something’s wrong here. We…we can’t handle it.”

“No, you can’t. It’s midnight. I have to go.” The plain door opens easily as she walks in front of it, and Margaret vanishes in the almost blinding doorway light.

Yu is flabbergasted. This has never happened before, and he can’t imagine what could unnerve Margaret so. Rise grabs his right hand with both of hers, and he feels her tug him away and back from the blue door. “Let’s go, Yu. Please.”

“Wait, over there!” Naoto points to a deep area in the fog. A large, dark form is approaching them quickly, too quickly, and all three of them start running. “Rise! Which way?!”

“I…I think…ah! It’s that way! _Towards the Shadow!_ ”

They pause and consider the option of turning around and sprinting, of fighting whatever beast is approaching them, but before they can even decide on a plan, a blue, round figure is pummeling Yu to the ground. Yu huffs as his back slams against the TV World’s floor and tries to push the Shadow off his now crushed body. The Shadow is unrelenting, gripping him hard, burning his whole body into the ground while he was…crying?

“Sensei! Sensei! You came!”

Rise stands over them both. “Oh! Teddie!”

“Rise-chan! Naoto-chan! Oh, thank goodness. We all have to hurry! Something un _bear_ able is happening!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many bear-puns can I fit into a story? I can BEARly wait.  
> ...  
> I'll stop.


	3. Passage

Makoto’s news paired with the quaking feeling in his gut have him up and out of his parent’s house almost immediately.

He leaves Morgana asleep. There is really nothing they can do now, but he promises Makoto that he’ll be on the first train back to Tokyo tomorrow. Ren paces the street at night. It’s an old, bad habit. The last time he has done this here, he was sent on probation. _Or stopped someone from being assaulted._

Yeah, that sounds better.

His head wraps around the information Makoto had relayed. There were three people—one with yellow hair, one with silver, and one with blue. They were drunk and discussing the Phantom Thief case. Nothing unusual, though one of them Sae had recognized. _Must be connected to the courts._ Ren tries to bite back the overall disdain he has for the law and goes back to the facts.

They were discussing the Phantom Thieves. The blonde girl in glasses had mentioned Personas, and not in the Jungian way. _How would they know?_

The air is cold and thick with fog. Ren stuffs his hands in his pockets and tries to clear his head.

There is no way they could know. No possible explanation unless they had experience with Personas themselves. _Akechi did._ It is still hard for him to realize sometimes. _Akechi had that power before any of us._

Ren stops at the thought and leans on the corner of a convenience store. The glass is cold, rigid against the thin long-sleeved shirt he wore to bed. It’s almost midnight. His brain is humming, and he can feel his skin start to perspire from sheer stress. _Fuck._ He’s out, but all his friends are still in Tokyo. All of his friends are somehow linked to their targets and Futaba has recorded evidence of them discussing their heists. _She needs to get rid of those._ But Ren knows she never will, not unless he offers her something significant in return.

_“Are you willing to do this?”_

He straightens his back against the wall. That voice is not his own. It is feminine—familiar in tone and inflection but not in actual sound. Instinctively, Ren looks at his cellphone. The MetaNav is back and pulsing, just asking to be touched. _But the Metaverse is gone._

He is unarmed and feels naked even though they were just model weapons. Ren moves from his location. He continues to walk down the street and towards the voice. The streets are abandoned, glowing with condensation. The yellow moon is impossibly large, a perfect circle, and the sight, although once beautiful to Ren, can now only be described as haunting. The world itself is _haunting_ , alight in a sickly green glow, that same wet condensation now a stark red, as if the streets were mopped with blood.

And then, in the puddle of blood at his feet is a simple, brass key. He kneels down to pick it up, cringing as the viscous feel and metallic twang that seeps onto his hands. He doesn’t mean to speak, but it comes out anyway, low, harsh. “What is this?”

He should call the Thieves or at least call Morgana somehow, but his feet just carry him forward. He slips the key into his sweatpants’ pocket and then shakes. It is almost crushingly cold. 

_“Is he ready to face Death?”_

“Lavenza?” The name slips out of him, and he half expects a blue butterfly to approach him. But there is nothing. No Shadows. No iron-barred door. Just the moon, aloft and so, so big that Ren worried it might fall.

_“He’s not…no. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? His fate is different.”_

_“He has no fate.”_

_“He_ changes _fate_. _Were any of you listening?”_

_“Psh, Caroline, is that you?”_

_“…that’s not fair. That wasn’t my fault.”_

_“Silence. I’m getting a headache.”_

_“Where is_ yours _anyway?”_

 _“Well… this_ is _truly an unjust game.”_

The green fades from an alleyway, replaced by the rich, sapphire blue of the Velvet Room. Ren immediately walks towards the blue light, ready to finally speak to Lavenza, only to find a glowing door much different than his familiar jail cell. It opens before he can even reach for the doorknob.

He is surprised to see several things, the first being that he's not in a prison. He knows that the Velvet Room is a reflection of his own heart, and though he was no longer locked to his own fate after Yaldabaoth, he had always been in a cell.

This room is simpler. A blue couch. A table with a blue tablecloth. A wooden chair. And it is…is it _moving_?

There is a woman there. She has pure white hair cut in a bob with a blue hat on her head. Her arms are covered with the same colored blue gloves, and she cradles a large book in her hands. A compendium.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room.” She does not move from her position next to the empty couch.

His body goes immediately rigid. “Where’s Igor?”

“I am Elizabeth.” She gestures to the wooden chair in front of Joker. “Please sit.”

“Nah, I’m okay.” Joker watches her bristle at his refusal, his clear distrust. He hedges. “I’m used to standing in these situations.”

“You are not a new guest here. I know that quite well.” She saunters more than walks towards him, placing the book on the table. Joker notices for the first time a stacked deck of blue cards. “Satanael is impressive.”

“I think so.”

“But still.” Elizabeth’s yellow eyes are heavily focused on his face. “You aren’t my first choice. Why the mask?”

He jerks back, realizing that he was in his thief’s outfit. He flexes his hand, loosening the red ,before searching his belt for his model gun. Its presence surprises him. “I don’t really like attention.”

Elizabeth laughs, and it is not scary or malicious. Perhaps maniacal, but she does it in such a loose, carefree way that it almost relaxes Joker. “What a _liar_ you are. Oh! Why do humans do that? _Mine_ never lied!” She nearly keels over, and Joker wonders briefly if he should move to help her. He remains motionless, hand gripped on Nataraja. Elizabeth eventually calms herself, standing straighter before reaching under his trench.

She is lightening quick, and Joker scowls as she takes the model gun from his hand, looking at Nataraja like someone looks at roadkill. “Poor Metraton. How brutal. Lavenza is a sadist, isn’t she?” Something seems to startle her. “Oh no. This is _your_ doing. How bizarre. Maybe you are perfect for this.”

“For what?”

“A request,” she says idly, still holding his gun. “If you wish to accept it.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Everyone has a choice.” This seems to irk her. “I thought you would know that best of all.”

“Can I know the details then?”

Elizabeth shrugs. “You can know the important ones. Will that help you make a decision?”

“…Yes?”

Another shrug. Elizabeth turns to sit on the blue couch and gestures again for Joker to take a seat across from her. This time he follows. Her hands graze the stacked deck of cards and she looks up, expectantly. “Can I do a reading?”

“I don’t really believe…”

“It’s not yours.” She shuffles the deck quickly. “We will do a simple one—a three-card spread.”

He nods in acknowledgment. His time with Chihaya has taught him a bit about tarot. Elizabeth draws the top three cards, not facing him or her but Joker’s right. “Who is this for?”

She ignores him and flips the first card over. It’s one of the most familiar to him, though the image is blue and lighthearted. “The World. Major changes and end to a cycle. Completion and…and success in your journey.” There is a sadness in her voice, and Joker moves to comment on it. Elizabeth’s yellow eyes flash to him, glassy, before she composes herself.

Her hand flips the next one. This time the card flashes, and it is even more familiar. “Death. Combined with the World it means the absolute end. There are no more…”

“It’s not Death.” Joker blinks. The card to him is as clear as day. He would recognize it anywhere, despite the differences in the deck.

He expects Elizabeth to be annoyed at his interruption, but she looks at him again, surprised. “Combined with the World, _the Fool_ means venturing on another journey. How…how interesting. That is not the normal combination.”

“Excuse me?”

She raises a hand and flips the last card. The card flashes. “Judgement.” She lifts the card to her face. “Wait…what?”

“You’re right.” Joker thinks she may be doubting herself. “Judgement. Isn’t that good?”

“Unbelievable.” Elizabeth lays the card flat next to the others. Joker has to crane his neck in order to get a proper view. “…I must…I must implore you now. Please accept my request. I would…I would do anything.”

She’s grasping his hands, desperation nearly eating away at her. It’s unnerving. The Twin Wardens and Lavenza had never shown this level of emotion, and before Joker can properly evaluate whether he can trust Elizabeth or not, he finds himself nodding.

The tears actually fall then, and Elizabeth is quick to wipe them away. “Thank you. Thank you, Ren. Here…I’ll give you a gift.” She moves Nataraja so that it is facing him on the table and pulls out what seems to be a glowing, crystalline feather. She presses it fully into his gun, and the fake weapon radiates with a surprisingly cold heat. “Please use this when the time is right.” She pushes the gun towards him. “The door will be from whence you came.”

He almost feels like yelling at her—that was his favorite gun—but the attendant already looks entirely shattered. Joker nods and sits up from his chair. “Will I…will I understand what to do?”

Her eyes glance at the three-card spread. “You better.”

* * *

“Teddie…Teddie, slow down. You’re not making sense. Tell us what happened.” Yu hugs the bear close to his chest. It seems to be the only thing that calms him.

“Sensei! None of this makes sense. I was just doing a beary good job exploring my home today, and then I got hungry.”

Yu blinks. “Okay.”

“And what I really wanted was to go get Topsicles at Junes!”

“So, you went?”

“I did, but when I got back this place was _completely different_. Some of the fog was back and the whole world was green!”

“Green?” Naoto kneels so that she is eye-level with both Yu and Teddie. “Did you notice anyone here, Teddie?”

“No. I couldn’t smell anyone except for the Shadows. And they seemed to be acting up again! Though they have been acting weirdly this whole year.”

Yu finally manages to pull himself away from Teddie, much to the bear’s chagrin. He sits cross-legged on the floor and tries to steady his head. “How so?”

“Well after the fog was lifted, they were calm and even nice to Teddie. Some of them started to change shape into their true selves.”

Rise quirked. “True selves?”

“Personas,” Teddie remarks. “Well at least they looked like them. They didn’t really act like…”

“Teddie.” It feels strange to him, but Yu cannot shake the feeling of being incredibly rushed. He stands quickly and jostles for his cellphone. Although he has absolutely no service, the clock is still electronically ticking. _It’s still 12:00?_ “Tell us quickly.”

“Of course, Sensei. The Shadows left this world back around Christmas…like they were being summoned, and then when they came back here, they were like the old Shadows again.”

 _Summoned?_ Yu feels his Adam’s apple catch in his throat, almost choking him. There’s another _crack_ , and he turns to look back at Rise—Kouzeon by her side again. “…there’s something over there. It’s…it’s… _what is this?_ ”

“Oh! You mean the door?” Teddie stands up excitedly. “I forgot about that one. That was the strangest smell.”

“We should look at it,” Yu says immediately.

Rise shakes her head. “I don’t…I don’t…”

“We’re not prepared for this, Yu. You’re not properly equipped, and we usually stagger our teams in 4, not counting Rise. I can get Kanji…”

“We don’t have time to get Kanji, Naoto. Rise?” He turns to the idol, who’s hands are still locked together. Her face is pale, sweating, and the glazed look that envelops her fades as she focuses back on Yu. He knows she doesn’t want to, that both Naoto and Teddie would also disagree with this decision. Yu walks over to the idol and places both hands on her shoulders. She tries to look away from him, but Yu lifts her chin. “Rise, please tell me where the door is.”

“Senpai…” She bites her lip, and though her body is stolid, unmoving, her voice relents. “It’s…it’s close. Follow me.”

It is still midnight when they see the door, and Yu is surprised by how unassuming it looks. It is austere, unbuttressed by walls of any sort. A free-standing gateway much like the Velvet Room. His teammates flank him, and he flinches as one of them grabs his arm, surprised that it is Naoto out of all of them. “Do you know what this is?”

No, he doesn’t. Not really. The only adornment is a plaque with kanji and a small symbol underneath. The circle rings something familiar in his memory. _Is that…Port Island?_

“Yuki Makoto.” Rise reads and looks to the detective. “Who’s that?”

No one can even start to answer. Yu reaches for the knob, pulling at it harshly. “It’s locked.”

“Ah, well. Too bad, Sensei. How about Teddie leads everyone back? Maybe the food court is still….”

There’s the sound of metal on metal and then a slight _click._ The door slowly sways open, and the half of the Investigation Team, stiffens, air leaving their bodies in sudden shock. And unlike the Velvet Room, this door reveals nothing. It sways as if in a light wind, the gateway shrouded in devouring black. The hair on his arms are stiff straight, and everyone around him has stopped breathing. Yu nods his head, confirming what everyone is most likely begging him not to do. “I’ll go first.” It’s a second before he finds he’s able to move again, and when he finally walks through the frame, the wooden door slams shut behind him, locking him in.


	4. Crossroads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things may be a bit different but there's a reason for it. Promise :)

Yukari realizes that she has no chance of sleeping. It is 12:01, and she's almost disappointed that the world does not go green and bloody. The thought has her laugh. _What are you thinking? We did good. Makoto did the best of us all._ His sacrifice was not in vain, not even a little bit. Isn't she done questioning that?

Aigis has moved from the couch and is next to her on the queen-sized bed. The robot can't sleep, _doesn't_ sleep, and Yukari is met immediately by her face. "Yukari-san, it is seven hours and nine minutes before sunrise. You should try and optimize the time you are dormant."

She rubs at her eyes. "I can't sleep."

"Makoto-san had the same problem. May I suggest drinking decaffeinated tea or playing a Massively Multiplayer Online Game?"

"A—a what? Never mind, uh, I think tea is a good idea." Her apartment is cold. She slips on pink, fuzzy slippers as she climbs out of the bed and starts the electric kettle. She unlocks her phone and flips through the texts and missed calls from Satoshi. Her manager is pissed at her for the cancellations and confused at the sudden interest in Risette. She only bothers to read one text:

 **_Satoshi:_ ** _I'm good friends with Inoue. He's promised me lunch. Nagoya King. 12PM SHARP._

She could do that. She could stir enough energy to meet with Kujikawa in 12 hours. _And say what exactly?_ That was a big question. _I could tell her we need a man who looks like Yu for Featherman. It would be a great opportunity, and I would set up a meeting?_

But what if Rise says no? Then what? It would be too forceful to ask to meet him anyway. And why would she, an actress, be recruiting Yu-san?

"Your kettle has been going off. Have you changed your mind about the tea?"

Yukari jumps from Aigis' touch on her shoulder. The electric kettle makes no noise, and she picks it up, ready to pour tea into a mug that is not prepared. "I'm distracted."

"Allow me to help you." Aigis navigates the apartment with ease and quickly locates a ceramic cup and a package of matcha. The robot takes the kettle from her and pours the hot water. "You appear to not have any decaffeinated tea. Green tea has less caffeine per milligram than black tea, however. I hope this is alright."

"Aigis?"

"Is it not alright?"

"It's perfect. Thank you. I have a meeting tomorrow with Risette."

Aigis sets the cup on her small, circular kitchen table. "The pop music idol who knows the Wildcard?"

Yukari nods. "Any idea how I…how do I…"

"Bring up the Wildcard? Why not just ask her?"

Well, that is an idea. Yukari is not sure how _smart_ of an idea it is, but she hesitates to question Aigis.

Aigis gestures for Yukari to drink and then says, "The worst possible outcome is she does not know what we are talking about and potentially has a negative opinion of you. I think that is small in comparison to her helping us find the Wild ard." Aigis sits down. "Have you also considered the possibility of her being a Persona user as well?"

… _Risette?_ She almost snorts at the ridiculousness of the suggestion. "Can't say I have."

* * *

She tries again and summons Kouzeon, but her Persona senses nothing.

No. That's a lie. Kouzeon senses something chilling and powerful, and Rise almost breaks the connection away at the sudden force of it all. Naoto and Teddie are already anxious. They are unprepared and shaken that Yu has just vanished, and she's hesitant to tell them about this…this power when she isn't even sure what it is.

"Rise-chan?"

"I don't know…" She breaks her concentration and Kouzeon vanishes with a flash of blue light. "I don't know where Yu is." The words scare her, almost crack her. She feels fifteen again. She feels aimless and lost and so, so scared for this man that she hasn't seen for years.

"The Shadows are getting restless. Can't you smell it?"

Naoto flinches at Teddie's words. The detective looks at the simple wooden doorway but there is nothing. "How long can we wait for?"

"We have to wait." Rise's response is immediate.

Naoto bristles. "We have to set a limit, Rise. Time in the TV World is draining."

Teddie rocks back and forth. "And the Shadows…"

"An hour at least." She wanted to say three. "We have to give it that."

"Rise-chan, we can't fight them _all_ by ourselves."

"All?" Naoto seems afraid of her own question. The dark-haired girl approaches Rise. "How many is _all_?"

She bites her lip, hesitant to answer, but the Lovers card is floating in front of her again and breaking. The red visor wraps around her head, and the Shadow World illuminates in front of her. "Teddie, they're gathering here…towards that power."

Naoto is still in front of her. " _What_ _power_?"

"It's…it's terrifying, but incomplete? Are they…are they trying to…" Rise breaks her connection from Kouzeon. Her friends are fear-stricken. Teddie is holding his nose, and Naoto's hand is on her gun. "We can't leave Yu."

There are only a few seconds between Rise's words and the black horde of Shadows breaking the yellow landscape. The fog is muted, a thin haze, and all of them can see clearly the thousands, maybe millions, of beasts scrambling towards them.

"Rise! We have to go!" Naoto drags her. Her nails break skin, and Rise winces from the pain.

The idol doesn't want to move. They can't…they couldn't just abandon Yu but staying here would be certain death. She relents under Naoto's hold and follows. "We have to come back though. We have to come back for him!"

"This way! This way!" Teddie is already sprinting ahead, but Naoto nods and practically pushes Rise towards the sudden tower of televisions.

"Where are we going?" Rise manages to find her pace again. The thin fog is lifting more and more.

Teddie turns, running backwards. "Where else? Junes!"

* * *

The gun is now in his sweatpants' pocket after he leaves the Velvet Room. Ren takes it out to examine it more. It…it doesn't look any different except for the fact that it's…real? The weird glow is gone, and the Velvet Room has also vanished, replaced with something a lot less, well, blue.

This door is also simple, brown and wooden, nothing out of ordinary except for a metal plaque with a name. _Yuki Makoto?_ His thoughts flash to Mishima briefly, but Yuki seemed to be this guy's ( _or is it girl's?)_ last name. He reaches for the doorknob and pauses. The bloody key in his pocket is burning, and Ren grabs it and fits it into the wooden door. Ren pushes the door open only to reveal black.

He has never felt this afraid before. Not when he was drugged and beaten in a police station. Not when he was staring God in the face. This fear is palpable, chilling, and Ren is even more terrified to see that his thief outfit is absent. _Maybe I'm not a threat._ He reaches for his phone. The MetaNav isn't active, and his heart completely sinks.

Ren has nothing but a maybe real gun, and as he stares at the cavern in front of him, he knows that it is nowhere near enough.

It's impossible to miss, and as much as he wants to ponder why this simple door led to a massive gold one with eyes, he is more incredibly drawn by the blue-haired boy in front of it. He looks about Ren's age or…he did. Ren is almost certain that this boy is dead.

He is pale, stiff, as if he had fallen and cracked from stone. His body is pulled within its limits, legs and arms and torso wrapped in what look like barbed wire, white shirt and black pants loose and ripped. The golden door is cracked, no more than a sliver open, and Ren takes a step closer.

_"Get away…"_

He fidgets. There is a darkness here, and he's suddenly grateful for finishing "The Running Dead" last month. Ren takes another step forward and the voice ricochets.

_"Get out of here!"_

The bang of the door behind him has him jumping. Ren pulls the gun forward, cocking the hammer before aiming it at the figure behind him. _It's a man_. Ren swallows. The man does not seem bothered by the loaded gun, but his eyes widen at the sight of the door and boy in front of him. Ren tries to keep his voice steady. "Who are you?"

The silver-haired man glances around him, taking in the gold door and dead body. Ren realizes how this must look, that he is a teenage boy in his pajamas and this is absolutely _bizarre._ He lowers the gun slightly. "My name is…Joker."

"Yu Narukami." Narukami pushes the glasses up his nose, and Ren almost winces at how easily he gives his supposedly real name. "There's no need for that."

"How did you get here?!"

"A door in the T…" Narukami pauses, body becoming stiffer. "How did you get here?"

"A door and…this." He pulls the bloody key and shows it to the silver—

Wait.

Could this be the man talking about the Phantom Thieves? The one Makoto had mentioned discussing the case with a detective and who knew about Personas? After all, he is here and not nearly as bothered as he should be by all of this. The man named Yu looks at the key suspiciously and walks forward. He stops, face darkening, and Ren wonders if he heard the same voice as before. "…Where are we?"

"Don't know." Ren is hesitant to discuss any more. The tarot. Elizabeth's request. He jerks his head towards the golden door, sarcasm slipping. "Think this guy can use a little help?"

"Isn't he dead?" Narukami approaches him so that they are side by side. His glasses seem to fog too easily, and he removes them, wipes them on the sleeve of his white button-down shirt. They look odd somehow, and Ren thinks of the fashion glasses he wore back in Tokyo. Narukami replaces them over grey eyes. "Wait, he isn't."

"Isn't..."

"Dead." The older man is rushing towards the boy, seeming to completely forget about the gun, and as Ren starts to follow, the same voice is _screaming._

He does not let go of Nataraja, but his body relaxes only in the way that makes it adaptable, reactive. Narukami, though on face-value ordinary, is incredibly gutsy. If Yu had heard the voice before, he is not responding to it now as he stands in front of the blue-haired boy. "There's something here…a lock?"

Ren blinks. He sees nothing, and he is still entirely sure the blue-haired boy is dead. He places his hands on his temple, activating his third eye. The cavernous chamber of a room is duller, darker besides the flash of blue rotating above Narukami's head. The sight of the card knocks the wind out of him.

_The World._

"Who _are_ you?"

Narukami seems annoyed by this, but Ren is too distracted by the other card spinning wildly above the dead boy's head. And though he is used to this by now, of seeing the Arcana above his friends and confidants in the real world, he has never seen this before—a card that is completely blank.

Narukami shakes his head in distaste and focuses back on the dead boy. His hands are fumbling through his pockets, and Ren is surprised to see what looks like a can of Orange Smash. "All I had on me." Narukami flicks the tab open and holds the neck of the boy up. He pauses and looks back to Ren sternly. "Are you just gonna stand there?"

Ren shakes his head. He is still stunned a bit—he has never met anyone with the same Arcana as him—and he squats, taking stock of the cold body. "I don't think this will work."

"Just hold his head."

"You need to massage his throat at least." Ren thinks of Takemi.

"I know that."

"And you need something stronger."

"I don't have anything else."

Ren moistens his lips. He could try it. It may sound crazy, but he could try it. "No bead?"

Narukami stops his motion to pour. "What?"

"Or soma?"

It looks as if he might drop the can of soda. But Narukami is restrained. He places the can down and runs a hand through what Joker could only define as a bowl cut. "Who are _you_?"

"A trickster? No? That, uh…that doesn't mean anything to you?"

Narukami narrows his eyes. "You're joking with me? Now? Here?"

Ren takes the can in his stead and touches the boy's neck. He is cold, limp, decidedly dead, and Ren fidgets at the feel of the almost slime skin. But he knows, if anything, how to put on a show. The Orange Smash is poured slowly—he wants to get the angle right—and as the first drop of soda falls onto the pale blue lips, Ren crashes back, the sudden noise overwhelming. _"STOP!"_

Narukami is by his side, ignoring the sticky orange liquid, and helping Ren sit up. "Are you okay? Did you…did you hear that?"

"What was that?"

"Something powerful. Can you sense it?"

Narukami is apparently asking a loaded question. Ren lets loose his third eye again, but he senses nothing. Arcana, maybe, but power? That was an ability left for the Metaverse. It is feeling more than thought that has him pointing to the door. Narumaki nods in agreement and also at the lifeless body. "We should untangle him first."

It is painstaking. The barbed wire is fierce and everywhere, and he has to wonder how this dead boy's skin is unmarred. He pricks himself half a dozen times before Narukami unbuttons his shirt and rips the sleeves clean off. He's wearing a white undershirt beneath it, but Ren is still taken aback by the action. "Wrap your hands."

This is something only a fighter would know, someone who ran out of somas and beads, and _Orange Smashes_ , and he wonders briefly what the hell this man has seen. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

They untangle the dead boy in silence. Neither move to speak as they make more and more progress, and, for all of Ren's acerbity, he finds this…familiar. There are too many times when he falls into his own head or just sits and observes, and he thinks, maybe, that Narukami could be the same.

"Almost done here." Ren breaks the silence first. The blue-haired boy is now half-dangling, his body laid gently on the ground as Narukami unweaves an arm. Ren moves completely to the ground and attempts to move his legs but finds the wire frozen. "This is strange."

"It's the lock. It must be holding him down."

That…that sounds wrong. Narukami must notice his hesitation. Kneeling, he takes the glasses from his head and hands them to Ren. "Take a look."

The offer is weird, but Ren has seen weirder. This entire situation _is_ weirder, so he takes the glasses and places them over his eyes. He expects to see nothing or, at the most, what his third eye reveals, but the lenses instead reveal golden threads tangling across the blue-haired boy's body. They coil around him, almost suffocating to look at, a metallic cocoon webbing to what looks like a padlock on the ground.

"Do you have any lockpicks?"

"Lockpicks?"

Ren waves the thought off and removes the gun from his pocket.

"Wait, Joker. We don't know…"

There is a _crack_ and then a hard recoil from Nataraja but nothing else. The sound was loud and full, the movement heavy like a real gun but no bullet. No damage. No _weapon_. He practically grinds his teeth. "This was my best gun."

" _Best?_ " Narukami is pale at the implication. "Aren't you like…sixteen?"

"Seventeen." Ren stands and creates space between him and the dead boy. Narukami's glasses are sliding down his nose, and he pulls the trigger again and again and again.

Noise and _nothing._

"Fuck."

_"Shall I help you?"_

Ren drops the gun, and Narukami is backing away from the golden door and the dead boy at this new presence. It bleeds through them, acid-like, painful in its tone and words and breath.

_"I can help you."_

He looks to Narukami for permission, strangely. Yu takes that as direction to speak. "Who are you?"

_"I am Death."_

Ren thinks of Takemi a second time, and Yu seems equally distracted, lighthearted even. The silver-haired man shakes his head. "I met Death before. Her name is Hisano."

 _"Fools. You both_ are _Fools. If you want to save him, you must face me."_

The thoughts click together, memories sewing. Lavenza had said the same thing, hadn't she? He has never faced Death before, not like this, not in the way that this being is implying and begging for them to do. Narukami may have. He seems more encouraged to go the literal way about it, but Ren has no experience in beating Death.

Just _cheating_ it.

"It's not a real gun," Ren mutters mostly to himself, and Nataraja is in his hands again, throttle back. He places the muzzle against his forehead, and now there are two people screaming at him as his finger slips over the trigger.

"Stop!"

_"You can't!"_

It is nothing but recoil and slicing, and then there is something igniting in him, something familiar and terrifying and his body is scared but opting _to fight_. There is release as his head rocks back, Narukami's glasses flying off his head so harshly that he's afraid they may shatter. But then there is the deep exhale from the man now next to him, and the haunting orchestra of two beings screaming and…and laughing.

Satanael is with him. He is here in the complete real world, and Ren is almost overwhelmed by the power. It's draining every part of him, his body attached, at one with the devil, and he knows there is only one move available to him. Gun raised, he aims the barrel to where the blue boy lay, lock at his feet.

"Stay down." He's talking to Yu, and his Persona takes this as the cue to fire. The shell is magnificent, blind-white and all consuming, and he is only half-worried that the boy's body will be decimated once this is all over.

Chaos shatters against gold, pure and solid, and then withering, fragile. The tethers wrapping around the boy shirk away, and the boy is rolling on the ground, panting, muttering, _dying._

Ren collapses to the ground. Satanael has depleted him, and he can barely move an inch as he watches the blue-haired boy absolutely _writhe._

"Fuck. Give me that."

He flinches at Narukami cursing, but then he is in his face, shaking him. "Joker, give me the gun."

His body does it for him, completely collapsing. The gun slides towards Yu, and he fires it instantly under his chin.

There is a smaller blue light emanating, and Ren almost smiles at the sight of Ishtar appearing behind Narukami. The goddess floats above them all, winking briefly at Ren before casting what could only be Mediarahan. It does nothing for Ren—his exhaustion is of a different brand—but the blue-haired boy stops moving. His body is flat on the ground, face peering upwards, his chest heaving and falling as if he has forgotten how to breathe.

Narukami offers Ren a hand, and he takes it, stammering to his feet and still feeling weirdly ridiculous for calling his Persona in his pajamas. They paddle over to the boy. He is still pale, still slick with what could only be sweat and exhaustion, but he is alive. His blue eyes catch them both as they hover over him. "You…" His voice is raspy, cracking even after the full heal. "You both…did you free me?"

Ren nods. He mimics Narukami and squats down, offering a hand to the boy. "Yes. You're saved."

"Saved?" The word seems to baffle him. He rubs at his eyes, his nose. His hand falls to his chest, and he seems to panic, as if something important is missing. After a moment, the boy pushes the thought away, exhaling. "You defeated Nyx?"

Ren's fingers recoil. "Nyx?"

"Erebus? Did you? You…" The blue-haired boy moves slowly, effortlessly. He kneels to be perfectly in-line with Ren. "You must have. You… _didn't_?"

"I, uh. I didn't…maybe he did? Did you?"

Narukami only shakes his head.

The blue-haired boy goes rigid. His hands flatten on the ground and then he starts clawing at the stone, eyes tearing.

"Hey…" Ren doesn't know what to say. "Hey, you're free. Everything will be ok…"

There is so much speed and force, that Ren does not even realize he was punched until he is headfirst on the ground, cradling his cheek. The pain is fire and strength, and, mostly, disbelief. The blue-haired boy is standing over him, face cool, even. "You have no idea what you just did."

All the venom is in his words.


	5. Folly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay with my consistent updating! It's a holiday out here and grad school kept me busy :)

Ren is two parts confused and three parts pissed as he starts to steady himself back up. He grasps at his jaw, and although it isn’t broken, it is hard to move his bottom teeth. The blue-haired boy, however, is wholly furious. His knuckles are red and bruised, and his blue bangs stick to the sides of his face. The boy moves towards him, cracking and making a fist, and Ren is certain he is about to get hit again when Narukami steps between them.

“That’s enough.” His arms are wide, spread out. “Stay back.”

“Or… what exactly?” The boy’s voice is hoarse, and he rubs at his throat and hair. “Shit.”

“You’re rather pissed for someone we just brought back to life.” Ren pulls up his sweatpants and holds out his hand for Nataraja. Narukami is hesitant to hand it back to him.

The glasses are back over Yu’s grey eyes. “What you did back there…was that a…”

“Ah, uh…Devil?”

“Persona. You both have potential?” The blue-haired boy scoffs. “Figures. What are you? Strega 2.0?” His voice fades as the boy falls over, knees buckling as he coughs. He holds out a hand, stopping their approach, the white button up shirt slick and tight on his sweating back. “If you’re…if you’re not working for Nyx, then help me go back.”

Yu furrows his brow. “Back? You mean dead?”

“We were told to save you.” Ren argues, though it hurts to talk. Narukami shoots him a look as well—he clearly didn’t know that—but says nothing.

The boy is still skeptical. “…who told you that?”

“Elizabeth.”

The name has the boy cringe back, face dumbfounded. He crawls to a sitting position and shakes his head, long bangs covering his eye. “That can’t be right.”

“Uh, she have yellow eyes? White Hair? Wears all blue?”

Narukami snaps his attention to Ren. “You mean Margaret?”

“No. I mean Elizabeth.” Ren’s patience is breaking. He drops Nataraja into his sweatpants’ pocket, still lamenting that he wasn’t in his Thief’s clothes. Narukami adjusts the weird glasses, and the thought snaps in Ren. “Margaret must be your attendant.”

“…Elizabeth? Why…” The blue-haired boy is shaking his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I recognize that name. It’s Margaret’s sister. She said Elizabeth had left the Velvet Room.”

Both Ren and the blue-haired boy stare at Yu. The words mean something to all of them, though they had not admitted to it yet. They have all been there, haven’t they? Ren remembers the World spinning over Yu’s head and the thought clicks: they are _both_ his predecessors. “I think I met her in a Velvet Room. It wasn’t mine though. It was moving. Like an elevator maybe.”

“…that’s mine.” The blue haired boy is flat on his back again, gasping. “Fuck.”

“Was Igor there?” Narukami draws all eyes to him again. “You do know…”

“Bald. Long nose. I know him, though barely.” Ren shakes his head. “And no, he wasn’t there.”

“This must have been a trick. Nyx tricked you.” The boy reaches for something on his belt that isn’t there. “Fuck, this isn’t even where I died!”

Yu kneels to lean over the boy. “You think someone tampered with the Velvet Room? Is that even possible?”

 _Shit._ “…it is.” Ren swallows. “My attendant was cut in two before I even got started.”

“They used you two. Fuckers. They needed a Wild Card, didn’t they?” The blue-haired boy crawls to his knees. “So, we have one Evoker between the three of us and no weapons. This should be interesting.”

Ren knows he really shouldn’t even ask. “What will be?”

The laugh is back, chillingly loud and all poison. Narukami straightens the glasses over his eyes and maintains a quick, almost kendo-like stance. Ren is still exhausted from calling Satanael, but he stands and removes Nataraja from his pocket. There is a flood of blackness, of fear and despair and terror, and then a thin, giant figure with black wings is smiling in front of them, enormous, silver sword raised.

The blue-haired boy stands to his feet. “I’m Makoto Yuki.” He gestures lamely to the beast emerging from the shadow. “That’s Death.”

* * *

They fall more than anything else onto the linoleum floor of a dark Junes. Inaba—notoriously safe not counting those string of murders—never really did call for any advanced sort of security system. The three members of the Investigation Team were in the clear of setting off any immediate alarms, but Naoto still expects she would need to give Yosuke a call tomorrow to delete some security footage.

The detective prince smooths out her hat before helping an almost rolling Teddie to his feet. The mascot unzips the top part of the costume, revealing a blond, naked young man underneath. “That was a close one.”

“It still is a close one.” Rise sits, pouting. She removes the glasses from her face and hangs them over her pale pink blouse. “I can’t believe we left Yu.”

“We would have been dead if we stayed, Rise.” Naoto knows the words are not comforting, just factual, and the idol exhales deeply before following her fellow teammates to their feet.

The TV they emerged from is different. Teddie, zipping back his costume after a few disgusted noises from Rise, explains that Yosuke kept the original TV in the back of some Junes storage room so they could rotate through different floor models. Teddie had always been told in advanced so he could be familiar with the fastest route from his valley to Inaba. “We can head to Yosuke’s house now. He always lets me sleep in the closet. I’m sure we can make space for you!”

“Ah, um. That’s okay Teddie. I’ll just head to the inn. Not that I’ll be able to sleep anyway…” Rise grumbles as she attempts to fix her red-brown curls.

“We’ll go to Kanji’s.”

The idol turns to face her, blinking. “All of us Naoto?”

“All of us. I think we’ll need to stick together, and I…I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep much either.” She flinches at the sudden hug crushing her shoulder blades and Rise’s breathless “thank yous”. “Please let us just get out of here. We have a lot to discuss.”

She composes Yosuke a text explaining the need for him to arrive to work early as they walk the dark streets of Inaba. It’s still weirdly early—12:05AM—and though the timing of all of this doesn’t feel right, Naoto simply logs the detail and plans to deal with it later. Too much has happened this night. Too much had gone wrong and weird, and she needs Yu, or even Yosuke, to help her sort it all out.

Kanji has moved a few blocks from the Central Shopping District, still walking distance to his mother’s store but a sizeable distance from Junes. The three of them do not arrive at his front door until half past midnight, and Naoto, though guilty at their lateness, does not hesitate to knock. They wait a moment, but no one comes to the door. Rise knocks this time, faster, louder, but still nothing.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

Naoto nods, hopeful more than anything else. “I’ll give him a call.”

She waits for the phone to go to voicemail and starts, “Kanji, it’s Naoto. I’m…I’m outside. If you could…”

There’s a click and heavy breathing and a mutter of _shit_ before Kanji answers the other end. “Naoto? What…why are you…”

“I’m outside, Kanji. I’m with Rise and Teddie.”

“What, what the hell? Wait, hold on. I’ll be right…” The door swings open, revealing a dark-haired Kanji in a black skull t-shirt and bunny boxers. “Naoto? I’m, uh. Course I’m happy to see ya, but why are you all here?”

“Can we stay the night?” Naoto fights off the urge to immediately kiss her boyfriend. Kanji is ragged. He looks exhausted but mostly shocked.

“…why don’t you have any bags?”

“It’s a long…”

“And you’re wearing your glasses?”

Naoto’s hand immediately goes to her face, removing the glasses and setting them into her jacket’s pocket. “We’ll tell you inside. We’ll also need to make space for Yosuke, Chie and Yukiko in the morning. Is it okay if the shop stays closed tomorrow? Your order will be okay?”

“…yeah, yeah.” Kanji scratches his head and moves away from the door, letting the two others inside, though Rise has to grab a dawdling Teddie. Kanji sighs. “Did you forget about Yu? Shouldn’t he be the first one we call?”

“It’s about Yu.” She waits for Teddie and Rise to go deeper inside the small house before she leans up on her toes and kisses him squarely on the mouth. It is a cold, unmoving kiss, and she is sure he can feel it.

Kanji places his hands on both of her shoulders. “Naoto, you’re scared.”

Naoto fidgets. She hasn’t realized she was until he says it.

* * *

No rapier. No short sword. No katana or axe or hell maybe he’d give a knife a try if he had one handy. His fingers itch for the Evoker in the black-haired boy’s hand, and on closer examination, it looks weird. It wasn’t SEES branded or anything like he expected _at all._

Though that is a thought left for a…calmer time.

“What are your names?”

Neither the black nor silver hair boy respond. Makoto twitches. Nyx’s avatar was just sitting there, smiling at them, but this phase would shift and then they were in for a real shit storm.

Makoto looks around the dark cavern for anything he can fight with and comes up empty. He has to rely on them, unless frizzy hair decides to relinquish the Evoker. He repeats, “Names?”

“Yu Narukami.” The silver-haired one responds, eyes never leaving Nyx. “This Shadow is…”

“And yours?” Makoto stares more at the gun than the face.

“Joker.”

“Joker?” Makoto cracks a wrist. “Yeah, I need your real name. I’m not gonna shout _Joker_ when giving commands.”

“Commands?” Yu doesn’t break his stance. It’s firm, fixed, and almost reminds him of Junpei. The attitude towards his leadership does too, and Makoto is falling way, way back in his memories. The three of them running around Tartarus, not knowing _shit._ He resists the pang in his chest. He can’t think of SEES now.

Nyx should be commanding all of his attention, has commanded all of his attention for years. The beast is giant, head brushing the tip of the large cavern, wings almost collapsing together from lack of space. The golden door is cracked open, and though Erebus is nowhere to be seen, the energy is the same. The feeling of ending and anguish and ruin. _Ryoji…_

Stop it.

“I’m assuming Igor gave you your abilities for a reason.” Makoto locks eyes with Yu. “That’s mine. I think it would make sense if I were in control of the situation.”

Yu shakes his head. “You’re half dead. Joker here’s out of energy.” The black-haired boy starts to refute the idea, but Yu isn’t having it. “I’ve summoned a Persona like that before. It drains you. You can’t fight. Makoto, you can navigate me through this. Joker, you’re on healing duty.”

“Sorry I’m a bit out of _Orange Smashes_ ,” Joker’s voice is caustic.

“And none of my Personas can scan.” Makoto swallows. Nyx is completely focused on him. Arrogant. Wildly chaotic. Makoto needs to fight, but he’s swaying even as he stands. _Fuck._

The laugher bellows, echoes in the cavern again. “ _This is truly a fool’s errand. It is pointless to stop me.”_

Makoto bites back his response. The other Wild Cards turn back to him, asking if only with their eyes: _why isn’t it attacking?_

“ _I am fated. I am the end to all living things. The Great Seal should know this best of all. Fighting me will only hurry your demise.”_

“Joker, give Narukami the Evoker.” Makoto doesn’t know why he has to point to the gun in order for the black-haired boy to understand. “Narukami, conserve your energy. This stage is simple. No known weaknesses. Immunity to Light and Dark.”

Joker decides to sit in what Makoto could only assume as a chance to rest up enough to fight. “Light and dark?”

Narukami doesn’t hesitate. He reaches for the Evoker from Joker and fires into his chin. Yoshitsune emerges easily, drowning in blue light, and Makoto recognizes the quick moves of a Power Charge and God’s Hand. The blow is monstrous, violent and powerful, and Makoto waits for the arcana to flash. The Fool held all the potential, and he only hopes they are ready to meet it.

It’s been too long, and it almost hurts to breathe, hurts even more now to hold his breath as Makoto just watches. There is no blue flash. No change. No shift. Narukami is commanding another Power Charge but stops Yoshitune short because Nyx is _screaming_.

The darkness seems to bubble and fold onto itself, collapsing, swallowed and sucked back into the cracks of the golden door. Death is gone with no incident, and Makoto can’t even begin to process how all of this is too easy. He is already sprinting, chest heaving as he runs to shut the door closed. It is too heavy, too grounded, and he almost cries at the sight of the two Wild Cards next to him, helping him tug the door shut.

“Put me back!” He pushes again to make sure the door is sealed and then runs to his place on the barb wire. “Igor! Elizabeth! Put me back!” Makoto wraps himself with the barbed wire. It actually cuts this time, staining his porcelain skin blood red.

“Stop it! Stop!” Narukami is tugging him off. Joker is ripping his long-sleeved shirt and starts to place pressure on the more obvious cuts.

“We have to knock him out, Narukami-san.”

Makoto feels the rage, the fear. They _can’t_. He needs to go back to the seal. Don’t they _know_? “Don’t!”

“He’s a danger to himself.” Yu hesitates with the gun in hand, but Joker swipes it easily, cradling it carefully in his right hand before making blunt contact with Makoto’s temple.

* * *

He’s heavy to carry through the door, what with Joker too drained to put too much effort into it and Makoto’s body being perfectly limp. The simple, normal sized door is still present, and Joker fumbles for the key in his pocket before unlocking it and leading both of them out of that dark, bizarre hellhole.

_What was that?_

It was unlike any Shadow Yu had ever seen. The only possible similarity he could potentially make would be Izanami, but Izanami took _everything_ from him. She was an elite, terrifying goddess, and would have never been defeated in those two moves.

The door is not a TV, and Yu is shocked to see that it does not bring them to a beautiful valley or some yellow, fogged television set. They emerge in what looks like a slightly more built up town than Inaba. The streets are wet with puddles. The full moon starts to make its descent through the night sky.

Joker is on the floor already, back leaning against the brick wall of the alley. The door falls into itself and vanishes, and Yu is left half-falling with the full weight of Makoto on his shoulders. Yu sets the younger boy down gently before sitting next to him. “Where are we?”

“My hometown…about 2 hours north of Tokyo.” Joker pants and runs his hands over his face. “…It’s Ren.”

“Sorry?”

“My name.” Joker coughs and leans over Makoto’s body to offer Yu his hand. “Ren Amamiya. Sorry about…before.”

Both of their hands are cold, sweaty. Ren takes his back quickly and laughs, “Thanks for the help with all of…well, this.” He gestures to Makoto, who is still unconscious, a sizeable welt starting to grow on his forehead. “If he wasn’t pissed at us before…”

“Why was he so angry?” Yu starts to stand, but his head hurts, rocks, and he leans back on the wall. “Do you think you were tricked?”

Ren stiffens. “I can’t…I can’t promise I wasn’t. Igor wasn’t there, which I guess isn’t a great sign, but I thought I heard Lavenza.”

“Who?”

“My attendant. There were three voices, actually. One was probably yours.” He sighs and starts to stand. “Look, Narukami-san…”

“Yu is fine.”

“Yu.” Ren nods. “There’s a hotel two blocks down from here. I can walk you there and meet you in the morning, but I…I have to go to Tokyo after that.” His voice is grave, and Yu finds it all too overwhelming suspicious.

“You have somewhere to be? And it’s more…pressing than this?”

“I can explain tomorrow. It’s late. My parents will kill me if they figure out I sneaked out of the house.”

Dojima flashes in his mind, and Yu finds himself nodding, almost pitying the teenager. Yu jostles Makoto’s unconscious body with his leg. “How do we explain this one to the front desk?”

Ren points down the alley. “There’s a convenience store across from here. Should be open, if you get what I mean.”

It takes Yu a moment, but he eventually understands and trudges more than walks away.

Four minutes and ¥1000 yen later, Yu hands Ren a silver can of beer while he cradles another. They each crack the top open, the push of the tab breaking the otherwise muted street noise of the alley. Makoto is still unconscious, but neither of them risk pouring the beer on his face. They dab a bit on his white shirt, his neck, his hair—just enough so that he reeks.

“Here you go.” Ren hands a half-empty can to Yu, but Yu simply bangs his own can against his. Ren quirks an eyebrow. “I’m, uh, only seventeen.”

Yu pushes the can towards Ren with his own even more. “Think we both earned this.”


	6. Old Self

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay :/ I had to abruptly leave Seoul and resettle back in the States and then took a pause but then thought that the world needs more fanfic in it <3 Hope you all are well!

“It’s been too long.”

His head rings. It thrums with pain and ache, and he thinks this is an echo, a ricochet of memory. But then her hand is on his cheek and neck and hair, and it isn’t warm, but _buzzing_. “Elizabeth?” It takes a moment for his vision to clear.

She leans away, mouth open, eyes glass-like beads. “Welcome back, Makoto Yuki.”

“Elizabeth…” His pain seems to evaporate as he sits in the Velvet Room. It’s the same. Elevator creaking up and up, the back of his harp chair firm against his spine. The familiarity should ease him, but it doesn’t. His voice cracks, “Put me back.”

“Back?” Her eyebrow quirks. “But I tried so hard to get you _out_. Can’t we talk about that? Celebrate a bit? I’ve never been to Tokyo…”

“Put me back.”

“Why?” Her voice is almost all innocence, but he knows better.

“ _Why?_ The _Fall_. You know why.”

She shrugs and leans on the small table, hat almost tipping off her head. Elizabeth, though always flippant, is entirely too cavalier. Igor is nowhere to be found, but Elizabeth seems unbothered by all of this. “I had to do it now. Don’t you see? You were dying.”

 _Dying?_ Makoto shook his head. “I died years ago.”

“No…well yes. You died but the power of the Universe sustained you. It’s gone now. Don’t you feel it?”

He…he doesn’t know. Everything is so incredibly different than being the seal that he doesn’t know what losing that power is supposed to feel like. His body is empty yet real again. Skin. Blood. Human. Makoto flexes his wrist. His thumb methodically snaps over a throttle that isn’t there.

Elizabeth nods. “Messiah is gone. Thanatos is gone. You are barren yet…you are whole. Can’t you tell?”

“No.” Makoto shakes his head. “Does this matter anyway? Erebus and Nyx will…”

“ _It_ matters. _You_ matter. Do I have to explain that to you again?” She pokes his chest. “It’s been years and you’re still acting like a teenager.”

 _Years?_ “You stopped Erebus.”

“I stopped Erebus.” Elizabeth pauses. “For now. Temporarily. It’s risky to break the seal, but I had to get you out before your soul was gone forever.”

His head is foggy and full of noise. It’s hard for him to process what Elizabeth is saying when he is still stuck on past facts. It’s been years. Erebus is gone. He is out and alive, but his power is… “Where’s SEES?”

“Disbanded.” Elizabeth shrugs. “Well, sort of. Rebranded may be a better word for it. Can’t I start to explain how I saved your life?”

Is he still seventeen? Makoto looks at his hands, but it’s hard to tell. He absently nods, shoulders falling. Even after years tugged stiff-straight to a door, his posture still sucks. “Go for it.”

Her almost manic happiness fades, cheeks and eyes now serious as she sits across from him. Her hands are prim and folded on her knees. “I could sense you.” Her yellow eyes dull. “You were my guest, and I needed to take care of you. I knew there would be others, and my master would want my help but…” She exhales, and it is sad, almost lost sounding. “I needed to make sure you’d come back.”

“Even though I shouldn’t have.” His tone does little to hide his unease and anger. “I knew what I was doing.”

“And you’re saying you would prefer to die? To be dead over a life…”

He looks to the neatly stacked deck of cards. “My fate was decided the night my parents’ died.”

“Maybe but does that sit right to you? You were a pawn to a god.”

Makoto sniffs. “I can summon gods.”

“You sacrificed everything to win a game.” Elizabeth relaxes back. “So, I got someone to cheat for you.”

 _The other Wild Cards._ “So, you got me out. Fine. But what do you intend to do when Erebus comes back? Or has humanity…”

“They still ache for death.” She points a finger square at his head. “Case and point right here. But you can break the cycle. You can stop Erebus from ever coming back again.”

Makoto is still. The never-ending noise in his head suddenly goes silent. “…How?”

Elizabeth yawns, stretching her arms before standing again. “You’re sleeping right now. You’ll wake up soon.”

“Elizabeth…”

“I rather just explain it once. If only Margaret…”

“Elizabeth!”

“I’m so happy to see you.” She runs over and places a kiss on his cheek. “And I won’t let you die again. Do you hear?”

“I…”

The Velvet Room fades, blurs until all Makoto sees is black. His head is throbbing, and he smells…is that _alcohol_?

The shock of the scent more than anything else has his eyes stutter half-open. The room is too bright. The cheap curtains are completely drawn open, and all the linens and walls are stark, stark white. He is flat on his back, and he remembers a moment last—no, years ago when he had woken up exhausted and confused in a hospital bed. He rubs at his eyes. “Yukari…”

“My name’s not short for anything.” The figure next to his bed is shirtless, scarred, and most definitely not Yukari. He has silver-grey hair and grabs at a pink-stained tank top. The blotches are familiar, and Makoto immediately recognizes it as blood. “We’re meeting Ren in fifteen minutes and I’m hoping Family Mart has a shirt. Feel up to going?”

“…um, what?”

“It’s just across the street, and I’ll probably get some stares in a blood-stained tank. You okay? Concussed?”

 _Probably._ “I’m fine. Give me a second.” Makoto ignores the strange glances from Yu Narukami and heads to the bathroom, grateful that washing his face and relieving himself seem to get him out of his tired condition. The bathroom mirror is fogged from a recent shower, and he streaks his hand across the surface to get a look at his face.

He’s…he’s still the same. Same bangs. Same eyes, and he doesn’t know if he should be happy or angry that he is perpetually seventeen. He is in a half-uniform, only in black pants and a white shirt. His black jacket and SEES band are unmistakably absent. His thoughts slowly catch up to realize they are in a hotel room. He was knocked unconscious by Joker and must have been brought here by Yu to recover. _Who’s Ren?_ Makoto pushes his blue bangs away from his eyes and decides that he doesn’t actually care. There are too many other things to process.

Yu is on the bed and hands Makoto a hotel key card and a ¥5,000 note when he finally leaves the bathroom. “Maybe buy some soda for that head of yours.”

 _Soda?_ Makoto doesn’t question it and leaves.

* * *

She’s up too early. Sure, sleeping on Kanji’s couch would never have been comfortable, and pushing Teddie off several times despite his whines of nightmares was challenging, but usually Rise slept to at least 9AM. A glance at her phone shows it’s barely 6:30. The sun is still set, but the slew of text messages has her upright.

 ** _Inoue:_** _You’re meeting Yukari Takeba at 12_ _at Nagoya King_. _Sorry, Rise-chan, but I owe her manager a quick favor._

She looks away from her manager’s texts and is immediately relieved.

**_Yu:_ ** _Hey, I’m fine._

There are several texts after that, but Rise doesn’t bother to read them. It’s faster just to call, isn’t it? “Senpai!” Her voice causes the bear on the floor to snore louder, and Rise quickly removes herself from the living room and locks herself in Kanji’s bathroom. She flips the toilet seat cover down and sits. “Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again! It was bad enough seeing Izanami suck you into that abyss and then you had to…you had to…”

“Rise?”

She calms at his voice. Yu sounds tired, exhausted, and it was rare for him to betray any sort of emotion. “Where are you?”

“In a hotel. I’m headed back to Tokyo soon. We can meet at 10? Does that work for…”

“I’m in Inaba.”

A pause. “You’re…you… _why_?”

“That’s just where Teddie got us out. I’m in Kanji-kun’s house right now. What happened, Yu?” Rise is met with an elongated silence, which isn’t abnormal for Yu, but given the circumstances, she can’t help but be impatient. “Look, just tell me you’re alright.”

“I’m fine. Just…can you get back to Tokyo?”

“I’m already packing.” There’s a hard knock on the bathroom door, and Rise flinches. “I’ll meet you at 10.”

“I’ll text you where. Rise, don’t…” Another pause. “I don’t know what’s happening yet. It could be dangerous, but I’m worried about the TV World.”

She reads him easily and ignores the constant knocking. “You’re worried about Inaba. I got it, Yu. Rise’s on the job!”

“Rise…”

“I have to get ready. You have to pack. And I have to wake up Naoto and Kanji to help me with this. I’ll see you soon, okay? Love you!” She cringes at her parting words but ends the call anyway. _Well, it isn’t anything he doesn’t know, right?_ She had always been rather…upfront about her feelings for Yu Narukami. Though to be fair, she was a sixteen-year-old popstar in a rural town—why _wouldn’t_ she feel confident that he’d reciprocate?

 _Only he didn’t._

She remembers the moment too, too well, of when she finally understood that Yu was her _friend_ and maybe that was okay. She was crying her eyes out, tired and exhausted and upset at Inoue of all people. And Yu had just…he just watched her. Stood there. It had upset her in a way words could not convey, but she would be a fool to say that their friendship wasn’t— _isn’t—_ precious to her.

_Do you still want more?_

No. Yes. That isn’t important right now. Rise removes herself from the seat of the toilet and opens the door to reveal a rather grouchy looking Kanji.

“Hey.”

Rise blinks. Kanji’s bedhead is distracting. “Oh, uh, good morning.”

“Naoto heard you and wanted me to check up on you.”

That’s strange. “Naoto made you, huh?”

“She’s getting ready. Yu texted her. He’s okay, Rise.”

“I know. I just got off the phone with him.”

“Oh, he called you?”

She tries not to read into Kanji’s surprise and moves out of the bathroom. Teddie is out of his bear suit and rubbing his eyes, barely awake, but Naoto is nowhere to be seen. “Kanji-kun, I’m going to head back to Tokyo to meet Yu.”

“We’re all going, Rise.”

Teddie is at attention. “Sensei’s okay?”

Rise nods quickly to the bear. “He is. But he’s also worried about Inaba. What if the fog returns, you know? We can’t all go.”

“Well, I’m going with Naoto. No way in hell am I letting her go alone again.” Kanji crosses his arms as if this makes his point unchallengeable.

The chance of her staying here is absolutely zero. “Fine. Teddie will stay here.”

“What! But I’m worried about Sensei too!” The bear is fully awake now.

“Yeah, but I have to go back to Tokyo anyway. Plus, we should each be in a group. We’re the only ones who can detect Shadows.” Rise flutters her eyelashes. “Please, Teddie…”

Kanji places knitting needles into a black duffel bag by the front door. “I told Yosuke to come over at 9, Teddie. Catch him up, you hear? And make sure the house doesn’t burn down.”

Teddie sighs. “I promise I won’t let Chie-chan or Yuki-chan cook.”

“Perfect. Keep us updated. Naoto’ll probably be the easiest to reach. She’s always glued to her phone.”

Rise grabs her glasses and attempts to fix her hair. In the back of her mind, she still remembers that incredible, dark power through the door, and though she is ecstatic about it, she can’t figure out how Yu could have defeated it alone.

_It’s not gone._

The idol bites her lip before smiling and helping Kanji pack his bag.

* * *

He steadies his mood, glazes over the sharp anger with apathy and aloofness at the sight of the shaggy-haired teenager. Though its hard—even for him—to be indifferent to someone who hit you in the head with an Evoker.

Joker is clearly awkward about it. He’s wearing fashion glasses and a simple t-shirt and jeans, and he averts his gaze away.

“Hey.” Yu breaks the silence in front of the train station. He is in a poorly fitting, flower-printed shirt, and Makoto would normally apologize for his purchase, but the older man seems to actually _like_ it. Yu’s shirt is loosely buttoned, and he smooths out the collar, a small but real smile on his face. “Sorry, if we kept you waiting. Let’s get going.”

The town itself is smaller than anything Makoto is used to. It seems quiet, peaceful even. The day is surprisingly warm for early spring, and Makoto relishes under the feel of the sun on his face. _It…it really has been years._

Time as the seal was unquantifiable. He feels older, like years and years have passed, but his body is stagnant, and his memories are one messy blur. He remembers Erebus and Nyx between him, how after each force and push his soul would tear just a little bit more. The world itself does not seem that different compared to 2010, but he still has no real idea how much time has passed. “What’s the date?”

Joker—who he assumes is actually Ren—takes out a flat, black brick. “March 21, 2017.”

Makoto flinches. “…tomorrow’s my birthday.”

“Really? Huh. You could almost say last night was too, right?”

He stares at the black-haired boy blankly, and Ren places what must have been a smartphone in his pocket. “How old are you turning?”

“Twenty-five.”

The two young men beside him jerk, clearly disbelieving his age. Makoto dismisses it and approaches the old looking ticketing machine and jostles through his pocket for the change from Yu’s shirt. He turns at the tap on his shoulder. Ren holds the smartphone up. “I got tickets for all of us, Yuki-san. No need to pay me back. Let’s just go.”

It’s weird to be on any sort of public transport and not have music in his ears. The train seems clean. There are screens above showing proper train etiquette, but other than that, Makoto finds everything familiar but incredibly loud. The express to Tokyo is packed, but the threesome manage to find a four-seater, Ren sitting next to a packed duffel and Yu letting Makoto grab the forward-facing window seat.

His blue eyes catch the sudden change to breaking news. There’s a woman with black hair and glasses in front of what looks like a police station. Yu noticeably stiffens next to him even before the kanji scrolls across the muted screen. The words are mostly ridiculous—something about ghosts or phantoms—but one phrase sounds eerily familiar. “Mental shutdowns?”

Ren readjusts the fake glasses on his face. “It was some strange phenomenon that happened last year in Tokyo. People literally shutdown and lost control of themselves.”

Makoto squirms in the leather chair. An attendant quickly scans their tickets on Ren’s smartphone, and the train starts to roll on the track. Yu yawns next to him. “The Phantom Thieves are supposedly responsible.”

“Really? You think? Even after Shido confessed?” Ren pushes the glasses up his nose. His tone is indifferent, passive even, which is incredibly counter from Makoto’s brief experience with him.

“It does sound like Shadows.” Makoto watches for the black-haired boy to cringe back, and he does as predicted. He glances to Yu and his yellow-flowered shirt. “Is that what you mean by ‘phantom thieves’?”

“They’re people,” Ren interrupts. “Not Shadows. And shouldn’t we not talk about this? Public train.”

Yu agrees. “Shadows can’t get into the real world. Unless something goes wrong.”

“Like the Dark Hour.”

“Huh?”

Makoto waves them off. It would make sense that neither of them had awakened to their potential back in 2009. Ren is clearly uneasy discussing anything at all relevant to the news or current events, and the three young men fall into tense silence. Makoto could feel his mind fall into itself without any distraction. No music. No phone. He listens to the faint murmurings of Japanese from surrounding passengers in attempt to distance himself from his thoughts. It’s not incredibly successful.

_SEES._

He rubs at his left arm. He wants to call them, look them up. He would need them, wouldn’t he? Wild Cards are nice, but where were the people—the friends—that he had formed all of those bonds with?

_Yukari…_

She was there at the end. He remembers her on the roof, and Aigis was over him, cradling him, and he was so, so tired. He wanted to call out to her, to Aigis or anyone, but his soul…it had left, didn’t it? It left to be the seal and his body was lost to who knows where.

Yukari would be twenty-four. She’d be done with Gekkoukan by now, done with college. She would have moved on for sure. And though the thought stabs at him, Makoto isn’t bitter. What else could he expect her to do?

He is— _crap—_ Ken’s age. Ken is a third year. Koromaru may not even be alive. He watches the TV but there is no news about the Kirijo Group or anything and he has _no idea_ where anyone is.

_“Do not worry.”_

The voice is young, soft, and before Makoto could even register that it was directed to him, Ren is up and running towards what looks like a blue butterfly. _What…_ He rushes over Yu and chases after the black-haired boy, ignoring the confused looks and gasps of the passengers surrounding them. He pushes through to area between the next car, the aura of blue light already bleeding through the car door. Ren cracks a smile as Makoto approaches. “Narukami behind you?”

It’s a second before Yu also appears and the door to the next car slides open to the Velvet Room.

They let him enter first, but Makoto is slow to do so. This is unfamiliar, mostly because it is not an elevator but also because Elizabeth is flanked by a taller woman with wavy hair and a young girl with a large book in her hand. The metal door of the train car closes as all three of them enter, and Makoto recoils as Ren’s simple t-shirt and jeans vanish to reveal a long leather trench and red gloves.

_What the…_

“Welcome to the Velvet Room.” Elizabeth winks at him and waves to a four-seater that mirrors the one they were seated in before. “Please sit. We are all fine standing. Well, maybe not Margaret here…”

“Eh-hm. Yu, it is good to see you.” The taller attendant—Margaret—approached the grey-haired boy and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Apologies for my reaction in the TV World. It’s hard to predict what my little sister intended.” Her voice is soft, mature, and Makoto half-wonders what it would be like to have an attendant who doesn’t dump your compendium money in a fountain.

“Inmate.” The short girl only offers a smile to Ren and places the large book on the lifted table between the four-seater. “I must say I do prefer this room to your own.”

Ren knocks on the clouded window of the train as he sits. “Where are we going exactly?”

“On another journey,” Margaret offers. She places her hands on Yu’s shoulders and moves him towards a seat. Her face is flushed from the brief physical contact. “Please, do sit Yuki-san.”

Ren’s scowl is obvious even behind the winged domino mask. His outfit is confusing, and Makoto decides to sit across from Joker so that he can get a better look at it. The more casual persona vanishes in the dark getup. Ren is cocky, lackadaisical almost as he sprawls on the seat. His gloved hands run through the inner pockets of the leather trench, and Makoto leans forward. _The Evoker…_

“Makoto-san?”

He turns to face Elizabeth. Her normally bright face is dour, focused. “I think it’s best if you explain what happened.”

He doesn’t, but Makoto can’t find the energy to argue. “…we all went through something similar, right? We were all granted a power and were expected to do something with it.” He pauses just in case either man disagrees, but neither Ren nor Yu speak. Makoto pushes his bangs away from his face. “I had to stop Death.”

“Nyx,” Margaret corrects. “There was a prophecy that Nyx, the goddess of Death, would come and destroy all of humanity.”

“That’s right. Not make mindless, not enslave, but _destroy_.” Elizabeth places her hands on her hips. “You two owe Makoto-san quite a bit.”

Makoto waves her off. “You… _freed_ me from my role as the Great Seal. My soul acted as the lock between humanity and Erebus—one of the only things that can reanimate Nyx.”

“We heard Death before we freed you,” Yu says. “Wouldn’t that mean that Nyx is already animated?”

Lavenza places a palm on the compendium. “Death always exists. It is an impossible thing to destroy without stopping the cycle of life itself. Our only option is to defeat Erebus.”

“Which I did!” Elizabeth raises her hand.

“Temporarily.” Margaret pushes her sister aside from the small table in front of the Wild Cards. “Erebus is continuously reborn through the _magnum opus_.”

Yu and Ren both look to Makoto, as if he could offer any further explanation, but he is just as lost. He didn’t know what brought Erebus back again and again, just that it would not end until humanity stopped asking for death. But that is an impossibility. There would always be someone who wishes their pain to end, to remove themselves from this world. Makoto knew that too well. “I thought Erebus couldn’t be stopped.”

“We did too, but Erebus is just another god, Makoto-san. Gods can be killed.” Elizabeth’s yellow eyes flash to the other two guests. “Can’t they?”

“So, you want us to break the cycle? The… _magnum opus_?” Ren nods. “Just tell us how.”

Lavenza frowns. “It’s not that simple, Ren-san. The _magnum opus_ is a process. Humans first discovered it through the science of alchemy, but Erebus has twisted its purpose.”

“And what is its purpose?”

“Immortality.” Lavenza continues, “The _magnum opus_ is the secret to immortal life. Erebus is trapped here, in this compendium. My sister has done this for you all. Reverse the process and you can kill Erebus forever.”

Margaret holds up four fingers. “There are four stages: _nigredo_ , _albedo, citrinitas,_ and _rubedo_. They represent Erebus’ state of being—destruction, purification, awareness, and completion. We don’t know how long it will take for the _magnum opus_ to be completed this cycle. But to reverse it, we ask that you gather three artifacts to bring Erebus back to its _nigredo_ state.”

 _Destruction._ Makoto’s mind wavers. He had accepted his fate—an eternal life trapped as a door, a sealed gateway between Nyx and his world. He can’t comprehend a life without that, an _actual_ life where Death is no longer a part of him. _Thanatos is already gone._ His blue eyes catch Elizabeth, and his attendant offers a light smile. “Makoto-san, please don’t worry. I knew I would save you, and I know that you all can gather the artifacts to protect this world. Will you all accept? Will you take this contract?”

“Where’s Igor?” Ren’s voice is coarse.

“I’m surprised _you_ miss him, Amamiya-san.” Elizabeth sniffs. “Igor is called to another place beyond this time. But I am sure you will all meet again before this is over.”

“Where do we get these artifacts?” Yu asks.

“They are…attached to a human—a mirror—one who is also a part of you.” Lavenza holds eye contact with Ren. “I would almost refer to them as treasures.”

 _Treasures? What?_ Makoto pushes the thought away. “And we know who these people are? “

“He should.” Lavenza does not look away from her guest. She nods solemnly. “Ren-san, you must seek him out first. We will call you back when this task is complete.”

There is a flash of bright blue and then darkness. Makoto jerks, as if he had just woken from a deep, surreal dream in the same four-seater. Narukami is next to him, looking as dazed as he feels, and Ren is back and in his normal shirt and denim. He’s silent, face ashen. Makoto himself is still lost with what happened, with what was asked of them. _We can stop Erebus?_ It seems impossible, but Elizabeth has never lied to him before.

“So, who is it?”

Ren flinches at Yu’s voice. The bluntness and dispassionate tone for some reason calms Makoto. The black-haired teen shakes his head. “What she says doesn’t make sense.”

“I know mine,” Yu says easily. “But they said we should do yours first so…who are we looking for?”

Makoto scrapes his own memory for who this person could be—a mirror, so a reflection of himself? He can’t think of anyone who would fall into that category, but Yu is so certain, and Ren is absolutely haunted as his mouth twitches to speak.

“Goro Akechi.”


	7. Ace Defective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY. I think I was just in a weird place in the exposition, became unexcited about it, and then finally finished Royal and got super engaged again. My fickle writer's heart--ya'll deserve better.

He doesn’t quite buy any of this. Makoto is too serious, and Yu is unreadable, so it’s hard for him to just voice his distrust so openly. Maybe it’s just his past experience with the Velvet Room, but this seems too much like an easy fetch quest to be the actual solution from saving humanity from…whatever Erebus is.

And besides, Goro Akechi is _dead._ He had been pummeled by Shadows deep in the subconscious of his dad’s mind. Dark, but true. They had tried to help him—tried to _save_ him—but the Phantom Thieves had been unsuccessful.

_We never saw him die._

There is that. As cliché as it was, no one on his team had seen Akechi’s body. There was also the weird circumstance of dying in the Metaverse—wouldn’t that be similar to how Okumura was killed? Shouldn’t Akechi’s body have been found somewhere, all dark goo and, well, dead? Sure, it wasn’t his Shadow, but Akechi had died in Shido’s palace and Shido’s palace no longer existed. Would he have been brought back to this world at all? Or was he just a ghost?

_Or is he alive?_

His head hurt. Ren crashes back on the now moving train, pinching his nose.

“So…about that outfit?”

He stirs at Yu’s voice and the reminder that the two other Wild Cards had seen him in full Phantom Thieves wear. Makoto would have no idea what the Phantom Thieves are, but Yu? Ren keeps his eyes closed. “What about it?”

“What’s with it?” Makoto is blunter about it. “Was your thing trying to rob a bank?”

“No,” Yu offers. The recognition in his face is too clear. “It was…”

“I’ll explain when we get to Tokyo, okay?” Ren only opens his eyes briefly to see the blue-haired boy laughing. It seems almost unnatural on Makoto’s face. “Maybe we should all explain why we have our abilities.”

“We need help too. I doubt getting these treasures will be easy,” Yu says.

Ren nods. “It’s not. That’s for sure.”

“You guys can go recruit.” Makoto taps a foreign rhythm on his thigh. “I rather not.”

That’s strange. Ren is already itching to see the Thieves again and it had barely been a day. Shouldn't Makoto want to see his own team? _Assuming he had one._ Yuki doesn’t seem like the type to share, however, so Ren drops it and decides to refocus on the information the three Velvet Room attendants presented them with.

The _magnum opus._

Erebus.

Goro Akechi.

He doesn’t really understand any of those three things, but he is expected to at least know something about Goro Akechi.

He should text Makoto—Niijima, not Yuki—and ask. Sae would have the best guess out of all of—

“Wait, I know that name.” Yu’s posture is suddenly perfect, the yellow collar of his flower-shirt almost upright. “Goro Akechi…he’s the one they call the second detective prince. He’s actually a boy.”

Makoto blinks. “Um, what?”

“He was a high school student who solved a bunch of crimes the last couple of years.” Ren is surprised how hard it is to actually say. Akechi hadn’t solved shit. “I say 'was' because he’s been missing for months.”

The blue-haired boy shrugs and sinks deeper in the seat. “Is that a long time? Maybe he’s just taking a break.”

“I know him personally,” Ren argues. “And while we’re being honest about stuff, I’m pretty sure I was there when he died.”

The information does not seem to faze either Yu or Makoto, and Ren has to remind himself, again, that these two young men have seen similar things to what he had experienced. Maybe even worse.

“Let’s assume he is alive, okay? Would there be anyone around Tokyo we could ask about his whereabouts?” Yu is quick to question.

“Maybe…eh, I actually don’t really know. There’s the prosecutor he worked with on a few cases but…”

Yu persists, “No family? Friends?”

“No.”

Makoto taps on the window, a distinct melody. “Sounds like this guy was depressed.”

The guilt Ren feels spirals. To be honest, he had found Akechi’s constant presence in the subway or Leblanc to be...fascinating. The Detective Prince persona was often incredibly annoying to deal with, but what was underneath? Ren, as strange as it was to admit, understood.

_He tried to kill you._

That may have been important to mention to his new teammates. But then there would be questions as to why and how, and they really need to be in private for that conversation. His fingers flip easily over his phone to open the Phantom Thief chat.

**_Ren:_ ** _Leblanc. 10AM. I’m bringing guests._

* * *

It’s weird sitting here. And it’s not just because it’s weird to be sitting in general, though there is that. Makoto still feels stiff. His body is almost ancient feeling yet alive, and the sight and smell of the plate of curry in front of him makes him sick and hungry somehow simultaneously.

“The coffee’s bitter as shit but everyone here really digs it.” The dyed blond boy—Ryuji—sips on hot chocolate instead. “No shame if you need sugar or anything.”

“Black is fine.” Makoto takes a sip. His nose twitches and glances to Ren now in an apron and behind the café’s counter. The flavor is bold and rich and completely unexpected from the newest Wild Card. Makoto stretches against the back of the booth. Ryuji is next to him, his smile large but weak. A brown-haired girl with a braided headband sits across from him and diligently takes notes.

“This is amazing.” Her penmanship is fast but perfect. “So, you’ve been imprisoned since 2010? Yet your body is perfectly healthy, and you haven’t… I mean, have you aged?”

“No.”

“Incredible. And you are also a Persona user I presume? And have Ren’s ability to summon multiple Personas?”

“Yes.”

“And this Dark Hour, how exactly did it come to be? And why do none of us have any memory…”

“Mako-chan.” Ryuji thuds the finished mug of hot chocolate down on the table. “Give the dude a break.”

Her eyebrows furrow, red eyes reminding Makoto of a different senpai. “It’s necessary to gather the appropriate information before I begin a strategy. We can’t go in assuming this will just be another infiltration.”

“Well, yeah. Akechi’s dead.”

“We don’t know that, _Ryu-kun_.”

The blond next to him bristles. “Aw, come on Makoto. It’s confusing otherwise. Besides, I’ve called you much worse nick…”

“Ryuji!” The girl Makoto—Mako-chan or Niijima as Makoto would most likely call her—practically screams, drawing the attention of the other Phantom Thieves in the retro cafe. Though he has barely been around them for thirty minutes, he can feel each of them distinctly. And it is...strange. The arcanas are clear, brazen, but they are different from what he expects.

From what SEES was.

Okumura is also an heir to a corporation, also all elegance and refinery but without the blaze of intensity Mitsuru has. Sakura is attached to her laptop like “Maya”, but the girl is more Fuuka than anything. Niijima, though seemingly bookish like his Priestess, had a clear temper and a sharp tongue. Sakamoto, currently the victim of her abuse, exudes athlete, but his demeanor and overall attitude are almost too close to Junpei to ignore. Then there’s the artist who is supposedly the Emperor though he can’t even imagine him and Hidetoshi holding a conversation. And (this actually does make Makoto question his sanity) the black and white cat that emerged from Amamiya’s bag is somehow the _Magician_?

Makoto takes a spoonful of curry. Clearly, he’s delusional and needs food.

There’s also the girl at the counter. She’s almost too pretty: foreign yet Japanese, hair full and thick and naturally blonde. She pretends to be interested in the conversation Niijima and Sakamoto are trying to get out of him, but her eyes are drawn to Ren. And she gets his attention fully, completely. Makoto recognizes the look in his eyes and the reluctancy in his body. They have a wordless exchange that reeks that they aren’t hiding this nearly as well as they think they are, and the memory is staggering. He itches for the phone in Sakamoto’s hands.

_I can’t call her._

That’s the core of his uneasiness, of watching these teenagers laugh and fight and beg Ren for more and more curry. SEES was like this, wasn’t it? On the best days, maybe. Before they knew of the Fall and were haunted by Shinjiro or Kirijo or…or…

Maybe they weren’t like this. There’s a lightness to the Thieves that Makoto’s team never had. They were always haunted by something, getting ready for another Full Moon or Strega or Death. Yukari and he were far too serious for sixteen-year-olds, and he can’t help but wonder if she was okay after he died.

“Can I see your Evoker?”

He flinches at Niijima’s question. Makoto barely remembers telling her about the Evoker, but the girl has seemingly caught on to the concept effortlessly. “I don’t have one anymore.”

“Then perhaps you know where to procure one?”

Sakamoto’s eyes grow. “Thinking about shooting yourself in the head? Anat that desperate to get out?”

“A Persona user can’t have a Palace, and if we have to fight Akechi in this world…”

“Then it’s like 12 against 1, Mako-chan. We’ll be okay.”

She frowns. “It also unsettles me what Yuki-san implied. The Dark Hour took place in _this_ world. There’s no guarantee that we can use our Personas if we are forced into a similar environment. What if there are Shadows?”

“Fair enough! So, step 1: get some guns. And step 2…”

“Try to convince Narukami to not call the cops on us,” Sakura mumbles from the booth in front of them.

The other boy with blue hair nods. “Perhaps that should be step 1 instead. Yuki-san, do you mind keeping still?”

Makoto glances to the sketchbook in front of Kitagawa. He rotates his body 90 degrees away from the artist and hears an audible moan. “If it’s necessary, I may be able to get you some, but I rather not until we know we need it.”

“Fine.” Niijima nods and closes her notepad. “I’ll ask my sister about Akechi, but I doubt she’s heard anything. Is Narukami-san still outside?”

This draws Ren from behind the counter. “He’s directing his friends here.” The frizzy-haired boy looks at Makoto, eyes full. “You sure no one you want to call? Maybe not your…whatever your equivalent of the Thieves are.”

“Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad,” Niijima reads from her notepad aptly.

“…Right. Maybe not them but what about your parents? A friend? Girlfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” Sakura closes her laptop. “No judgment here, right Inari?”

“Hm, what do you...”

Makoto shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“If you’re sure.” His body tilts towards the blonde girl, but Ren makes no move to touch her. “You should eat more before Yu comes back.”

“Did Narukami-san say who was joining us?” Okumura asks.

Ren shrugs. “Some detective named Shirogane and her boyfriend. Oh and, this is weird, but Rise Kujikawa.”

There’s a brief silence. The TV in the corner is blasting some game show, but everyone besides Makoto and Ren seem absolutely stunned by the name.

“Holy shit.” Ryuji is the definition of gob smacked. “Do you mean _Risette_?”  
  


* * *

It’s easy to tell that she’s holding back. Probably not to the casual observer or even the more trained one like Naoto, but Rise’s arms are loose around him, her head careful not to make contact with the skin on his neck or cheek. Her hair is more a frizzed wave than anything else, and Yu is torn between burying his face in it and turning her away. Submit or run. In the past most of him, if not all of him, would have shouted _run._ This is too much too fast, isn’t it? This is overwhelming, shallow, impractical.

But…

Hm…

When did that change?

“I wanted to change first. Sorry. But I’m glad you’re okay.” Rise steps away, hands clasped together behind her back. She’s in an orange turtleneck and white jacket with light blue jeans. Naoto is bundled with a heavy scarf, and Yu is surprised but grateful to see Kanji, still in a leather jacket, a yellow skullcap on his head.

“We’re here for you, Senpai.”

“Thanks, Kanji. Yosuke texted me this morning. Apparently Teddie gave them a full debrief. I told him to stay put in Inaba for now.”

“Your text was curious as well.” Naoto eyes the café with interest. The look is familiar, calculating. There’s a slight flurry in the air, and while Rise only shivers, Yu is drawn back years ago. When Naoto and he were perplexed and full of beef soup—something he still craved, actually—and running down a list of suspects that were growing thinner and thinner. They were at their wits end—panicked, confused. And then the pieces finally, surprisingly fit into place.

Naoto’s mind is turning the same way. Her eyes lock with his. “I was investigating the disappearance of Goro Akechi.”

“I remember him. He’s that kid who stole so much airtime in Tokyo.” Rise rubs her arms. “We had to do a lot of print advertising for _Sapphire_ because of him. Anyway, can we go inside now? It’s freezing…”

Yu shakes his head. “So, you weren’t looking into the Phantom Thieves?”

“I was under the impression they weren’t mutually exclusive. In fact, I have to wonder if Akechi was a Phantom Thief himself, given his disappearance was simultaneous with the Phantom Thieves’ disbandment.” Naoto blows on her hand. “I agree with Rise. Let’s go inside. Leblanc is a curious…”

Yu grabs her elbow, and the detective glances back to him in confusion. He doesn’t know how to go about this diplomatically, so he just goes ahead and tells her. “They might be cautious of you.”

“Cautious? Why?”

“They’re technically still under investigation. We have to make sure that they remain open and trust…”

“Oh? Is that it? Leave it to me!” Rise doesn’t hesitate. She removes the pom-pom hat covering her hair and shakes out the long, red-brown curls. She’s infectious, really. Her smile is all _Risette_ , all pop and happiness and maybe a bit weary from the stares she expects to come. Yu follows close behind her in Ren’s borrowed grey coat.

The room is filled with high school students in some rather loud, plaid uniform. Ren is behind the counter, his hands never faltering with the espresso machine even as his eyes grow a little bigger from the sight of Rise in all her smiling glory.

“Why hi! I’m Rise Kujikawa. And you are?” Rise offers her hand to the dyed blond in the first booth. Her head dips to the side at the young boy’s stutter, and the idol giggles before directing her attention to Makoto. “Nice to meet you!”

Yuki looks limply as she bows. “Why is everyone staring at you?”

The so-called Phantom Thieves are practically leering. One even seems to be framing out Rise’s image with his fingers. Yu stiffens, “She’s an idol.”

Makoto shrugs and turns back to the curry on the table.

“Holy shit, it really is Risette. Dude, they have _Risette_ on their team! The closest we got is Ann and she’s _barely_ a…”

“Shut up, Ryuji.” The blonde and brunette girls say almost simultaneously.

Rise continues her smile before bouncing onto one of the bar stools. “Do you have cappuccino? That would be great! And no worries about you all being the Phantom Thieves.” The room is suddenly thick with tension, but Rise if she does notice, easily ignores it. “It’s not like the Investigation Team _always_ followed the rules, right Naoto?”

“Yeah, we did sort of lie to the police a lot.” Kanji leans next to Rise on the counter and looks to the rest of the room. “Name’s Kanji Tatsumi.”

“And I’m Naoto Shirogane. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

“The first detective prince, if I’m not mistaken.” A short brown-haired girl nodded before scribbling again in a notepad. “I’m Makoto Niijima.” The girl pauses and shoots the dyed blond-boy a grim look. Her voice is flat, defeated. “You can call me Mako-chan to avoid confusion.”

“Nice to meet you, Mako-chan! And who’s the cutie sitting across from you?” Rise giggles.

The group of teenagers slowly introduce themselves to Rise, and Yu attempts to remember all of their names. They’re not much younger than him, but it’s still jarring to sit in a room with basically a reflection of the Investigation Team. He glances to Makoto who seems even more uncomfortable. The blue-haired Wild Card moves around his curry with disinterest, eyes darting in an attempt to follow the loud flow of conversation.

His own blue-haired teammate has found herself across from Ren. Her hips are tilted, and though he can’t exactly hear the conversation from the doorway, he can tell by both their faces that it is serious. Yu begins to approach them, but Rise grabs his elbow and thrusts him towards the booth where Makoto is being interviewed. “You must be Yuki-san, right Yu? I couldn’t get much from Yu over the phone, but glad you can join us. This will be a cinch with three people who have multiple Personas. I’m the navigator.”

“No way.” A spectacled girl with long red hair leaned over her side of the booth. “I’m a Navi too! So, how do you do it? Hack in and download the maps? Run an algorithm using past Shadows to form a predictive analysis?”

Rise blinks. “Oh, no! I just…feel things? Sorry, that probably doesn’t make much sense.”

“No, it really doesn’t. Ren! Ren!” The young, short girl starts to climbs over and out of the booth. “Me and Risette are going to your old room to talk about Navi things. And probably J-Pop. See you in three hours.”

“Wait, Futaba.” Ren sets a foamed filled cup on the counter, and the room stills its unconnected chatter. _The leader of the Phantom Thieves._ There’s no doubt in Yu’s mind. The mask and gloves and overcoat were too familiar, and Rise’s hypothesis over dinner ricochets in his head. Ren moves from behind the counter and squeezes himself between Naoto and the blonde girl—Ann if he remembers right. “I think first we have to explain a few things.”

Ann jostles uncomfortably next to him. “Like…”

“Everything.” Ren grips her hand, and all the teenagers’ in the room’s eyes lift, though none seem too surprised. The blonde girl herself blushes furiously, and Yu thinks of Yukiko suddenly.

“Let’s focus the conversation.” Makoto speaks firmly for what seems like the first time in hours. He pushes the plate aside, fully giving up on the curry. “Mostly, I want to know who Goro Akechi is and how we can find him.”

“That’s part of this.” Ren cuts back. The air is heavy, overwhelmingly so, and he can’t help but look at Naoto. The detective’s expression must mirror his own. Complete unease. Whatever aloof, barista vibe Ren carried is shrugged off as he explains things like Shido and Arsene and Palaces. Mementos. Treasures. Cognitions. Mental shutdowns. Psychotic breaks. Yu’s memory tinges. That news was bizarre but seemed tangential to his own experience in Tokyo. He paid it no more attention than anything else, perhaps less attention whenever someone had brought up the Phantom Thieves.

_They were Persona users the entire time._

He’s an idiot.

The conversation falls back to Goro Akechi, who Yu knows from talk shows and Naoto knows from stealing her title and a few case facts. This is the case she’s been staffed on for months, the one that—according to her—made absolutely no sense. Ren quickly fills in the gaps. Akechi can’t be found. He’s dead and loss in this supposed Metaverse.

“The Dark Hour didn’t operate that way.” Makoto seems to be pulling deep within his memory, and Yu puts together that that was his Metaverse, his TV World. “There were…instances of people dying but they weren’t lost when it ended.”

“Same with the TV World.”

The room falls silent at Kanji’s offhand sentence. The dyed blond boy snickers, and okay, yes, maybe it does sound a little ridiculous. The young red head eyes bulge behind her glasses. “The, uh, what?”

“We went to our version of the Metaverse by entering TVs.” Naoto says it plainly in an attempt to make it sound as rational as possible. It has little success. The detective waves a hand. “As much as we should explain our own circumstances, I agree with Yuki-san. When people died in the TV World, their bodies were eventually found in the real world as well.”

“Hey, does this have to do with those weird murders in Inaba?” The vulgar blond—Ryuji—asks. The Phantom Thieves and Investigation Team all look at him slight surprise. “What? I know Risette was there on sabbatical—I’m a big fan by the way—and there were those creepy murders on antennas a few years back.”

Mako-chan smiles across from him. “That was surprisingly intuitive, Ryuji.”

“It’s not _that_ surprising.”

“We are from Inaba, and you are correct. That string of murders was the reason why our team formed. Three of us here were nearly victims of the murderer as well.”

“We’ll handle him next though.” Yu offers, and he feels Rise’s eyes fall heavily on him, worried. “But I see where you both are going. No body means this Akechi isn’t dead.”

“Or the Metaverse still exists.” Naoto suggests.

Neither of these sits well with the Phantom Thieves. The girl with short, fluffy hair is noticeably perturbed. Mako-chan and Naoto start to pitch possibilities back and forth. This place was once accessible via a phone app. The app is gone now. The Metaverse vanished after killing the God of Control. Yu scrambles to make sense of the possibility of one of the ‘treasures’ existing on a corpse when a loud ring sounds of in the room.

Rise bounces to attention. “It’s my manager. Sorry…he’s been texting me nonstop.” She shuffles up and outside the café quickly.

Yu absentmindedly checks his phone for some weird application but sees nothing. But that world must exist in some form. He feels it. Summoning Ishtar. Seeing Margaret and Igor again. It is there, somewhere; he just has no idea how to reach it. He notices a small RCA TV by the kitchen and immediately walks over to poke it. His finger is met with smooth glass. The Phantom Thieves look at him, concerned and perplexed. Yu shrugs. “I guess that would have been too easy.”

“Seriously, you guys need to explain what the hell this TV World is.” Ryuji mutters. 

“Can I like be in an episode of Featherman R? Would settle for Victory.” Futaba is so excited that he feels a little bad for telling her no. She frowns and turns her attention back to Makoto. “Oh! You probably don’t even know! They released a new Featherman pretty recently. You’re into it, right? I have it all downloaded on my PC and can send you the files. Consider it cultural training for the future.”

Makoto, rightfully, doesn’t know how to respond. “…thanks?”

The door to the café opens. Rise rubs her arm, bashful, embarrassed. Yu heads over to her immediately. “Rise?”

“Um…” She bites her lip. “I’m running late for an appointment.”

“You have to go?”

“N-no, but…” Her eyes shift around the room. “Can we, um, at least pretend we’re just customers here or something? Open a booth? Apparently, Inoue looked at my calendar and figured out where I was.”

Naoto catches on quickly. “Your appointment is here?”

“She’s right outside. She’s just taking a call but…”

The bell to Leblanc rings and, bizarrely, it’s the girl who approached him in the café. Futaba squeals from the booth, but the overall excitement is significantly less than when Rise walked in. Except for one person. He’s silent, but his body is stiff, white, a corpse as his blue eyes take in the girl at the entrance.

Her breath catches as well, and she looks decimated. The purse she’s holding falls to the floor with a loud _thump_ , and soon her body follows.

“Shit!” Kanji yells. “Did she just…”

“Yukari!” Makoto rushes from his seat and leans over the woman on the floor. He picks her up with a familiar ease. “I have to…I have to put her down.”

“I’ll show you.” Ren gestures to the staircase in the back, and the two Wildcards soon go upstairs.

The room is pure silence, but Rise is all emotion and guilt. She grabs Yu’s forearm, nails pinching at his skin. “I had no idea…”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know they were friends.”

“ _Friends_?” She almost smiles with amusement. “Sometimes you can be a little clueless, Senpai.”

Yeah, he already knows that.


	8. Providence

She seems the same.

He expected her to look older. Maybe her hair would be longer. Or her face would lose some roundness or have those little lines by the eyes or lips. But it looks the same and he’s flashed back to an image of Gekkoukan’s rooftop. Of her in a towel in a love hotel. Of her sad and angry and so, so passionate one night on a beach. She’s beautiful. Face too-white from the shock of seeing him alive probably, but otherwise perfect. Makoto reaches out to move a stray piece of hair across her face and his fingers graze skin. It’s smooth, warm, and his whole body shivers. He hasn’t felt anything like this for so long.

“Hey.”

Oh.

They aren’t alone.

Amamiya is behind them, hands in his pockets and looking more awkward than worried. He seems lanky in the attic, limbs stretched thin against the low ceiling, and his eyes dwindle on the surroundings before looking back down to Yukari. Makoto doesn’t turn completely. “Thanks for this.” He takes in the small, dust-covered attic for the first time. It’s small, dirty, and dark. The winter chill seeps through the cracks of old wood, barely dampening the rising smell of tonkatsu curry. “Why is there a bed up here?”

“This is where I stayed on probation.”

It’s a far-cry away from a dorm room, but at least Amamiya doesn’t have to hear the sound of a punching bag or some loud anime blasting in the middle of the night. Makoto touches the mattress and it’s incredibly thin. “Sorry about that?”

“Don’t be.” Ren collapses on the old, red couch. “This place was the best.”

The silence between them is natural, only punctuated by a bluster of wind and the creak of springs when Makoto adjusts his body. Yukari’s breathing is light, and though Makoto knows she’s only fainted, it still eases him to see her chest rise and fall with each inhale. She’s wearing a light grey coat, baby-pink scarf around her neck making him smile. He moves to hold her hand and is surprised to feel the familiar callouses of a bowstring.

“So…who is she?”

It’s a strangely hard question. She is—no—was his girlfriend. She was the crazy girl holding a gun in the too-progressive mixed-gender dorm. She was strong-willed and bull-headed and entirely too popular to be into a silent, music-nerd boy like him and yet, she was. Makoto swallows. “My Lovers arcana.”

“Oh.”

“Takamaki is yours, isn’t she?”

“Yeah… _oh._ ” The realization seems to hit the teenaged boy a bit late, and Ren shifts up from the couch. “I’ll wait downstairs then. Let me know if you need anything.”

Makoto turns his full attention back to Yukari. He slowly unwraps the scarf around her neck to help her breathing. Her face colors quickly, and worried that she may overheat, he starts to unbutton her pea coat. His hands tremble on the buttons. They’re the wrong angle or size or shape to easily carve through the slight slip of the hole, and this feels entirely too intimate. The wind is no longer cold, and his hands are slick with sweat. The rhythm in his chest is hard, pronounced, and for the first time in a very, very long time, Makoto regrets dying.

He checks her left hand for a ring and is relieved, though just barely, when he finds her hand bare. It means nothing really—rings aren’t worn as excessively as they are in Western culture—but it certainly isn’t a _bad_ sign.

_Do you really think she waited for you? To…not be dead?_

That’s ridiculous. How could he expect that? They had both faced and come to terms with what death means, how it razes and upheaves you, but there is still more after. There is always more after, and didn’t he want Yukari to find that again?

The selfish part of him says _no_ , but Makoto tries to snuff it away. He can’t let his brain default to that. And if he were being honest with himself, he didn’t want to see her again. He knew it would be painful. He knew that it had been seven years and people grow and change and aren’t the same. He is stagnant, maybe, but Yukari…is she still who he remembers?

She moans softly, consciousness coming back. Yukari’s eyes are closed, and she reaches to touch her hair. “My head hurts.”

“You don’t have any bruises.”

“Hm, thanks. Did you run out of medical powders? I think I could use one, Makoto.” Her eyelashes flutter, and Makoto sees her face stretch wide. “Makoto.” She licks her bottom lip, almost tasting it. Her entire body seems to wilt. “Makoto?”

“Hi.” He doesn’t know exactly what he wants to do. Or rather, what he should do. He wants to hold her, kiss her, but the last time he kissed her either feels like both a day and a century ago. He’s not sure how she’d take it.

Yukari straightens in Ren’s old twin bed. “Am I…am I dead?”

Makoto sits on the edge of the bed and touches her hand, his thumb rubbing the center. She doesn’t pull away, and he pushes down the weird urge to smile. “No.”

“But…you…you’re alive?”

He nods. She’s trembling, and suddenly her eyes are full of tears. Her breathing becomes rapid, uncontrolled, and Yukari nearly yelps as she drags him into a hug. Makoto feels wetness on his shirt, and her nose edges against his neck as she fits her head against his body. She’s still shaking, and he tries to hold her, tries to soothe her body against his with hands and touch because he doesn’t know what to say. There are no words for this moment. This moment shouldn’t happen at all. Yukari continues to lean against him when he realizes that she smells different.

It’s not bad, really. Floral still but not cloying, and he wonders again if she liked the perfume or would have preferred a purse or maybe flowers when they were still dating. Hair tickles against his skin, and he pushes it back and away from her face. She’s usually the one to break the silence, but Yukari’s still ears-deep into his shirt. “I’m sorry,” he finally gets out.

“Why?” She shakes her head. The word sounds broken through her tears. “Why would you say that?”

“You…you didn’t deserve to lose someone else.”

She snorts at that and finally pulls her body away from his to rub roughly at her eyes. “I was a mess.”

“Was?” He can’t help himself, and he hopes humor can make this feel more normal.

Yukari hits him. “Don’t joke! It…I wanted to save you.” She reaches out and touches his cheek. Her hand curves under his jaw, nails rough but nice against him. “You feel the same.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You look the same at least. Are you…” She swallows. “You’re young.”

“I don’t _feel_ young.”

As much as he’s afraid she will, Yukari doesn’t move away from him. She grips his hand tightly, vice-like, and it is painful, but he hopes she never lets go. Her face flushes. “I can’t believe I…I fainted, didn’t I?”

“It was almost like you weren’t expecting me.”

She smiles at his dry humor, and it is small, perfect on her face. Her hand reaches to move his blue bangs away, and the gesture is so familiar, so endearing that Makoto almost blurts he loves her on the spot.

Because he does. He still loves her, but he has to keep reminding himself that it has been _years_. He settles for something easier, “I missed you.”

“You did? I mean…you could? We knew you were the Great Seal.”

“How did you know?” 

“It’s a long story.” And Makoto knows to drop that for now. Yukari cups his cheeks, holds him still. Her grip is still all too firm, but he doesn’t dare shake her away. “You’re real?”

“Yes.”

“You’re…you?”

He doesn’t really know about that. Thanatos and Messiah are untouchable, the Universe gone, and he feels not…whole. His heart still yearns for her though and _that_ is the same, so he says, “Yes.”

“Good.” Yukari shakes her head furiously and drags him back to her. He expects her to ask why, how, to be somewhat worried that he is here and that could mean Nyx would follow, but Yukari doesn't seem to care. He finds that he doesn't either. He's here. He never thought he'd be here again, alive and so, so close to her. The rickety barely-a-bed creaks underneath the sudden movement, and he leans in, instinct taking over. She doesn’t inch away or recoil or even hesitate. They are not students or SEES. They are different people now, perhaps, but her lips feel exactly the same.

* * *

_Goro Akechi is alive._

That’s the only explanation, isn’t it?

His thumb presses the MetaNav, and the familiar, briefly gone window springs to life easily. The Thieves are still talking about Yukari Takeba. She’s also a celebrity and the Lovers arcana and is most definitely a member of Yuki’s Specialized Execution Extra…team. Ren can’t help but think how the Thieves sound a bit cooler, but it’s really not a time to dwell on aesthetics. Ann meets him at the end of the staircase, and her hand immediately falls on his cheek, the need to hide physical touch now non-existent. _Today’s not all bad._ In the back of his mind, he curses for not just owning up to this months ago.

“You’re bruised.” It sounds like an offhand comment, but Ren knows she wants an explanation.

“Makoto-san didn’t want to be woken up, apparently.”

Her blonde eyebrows raise. “Huh? So, he hit you?”

“Yup.”

She rolls her eyes at his almost proud tone and manages to catch a glimpse of his phone screen. Ann recognizes the menu immediately, face darkening. “Ren!? What? You still have it?”

“Have what? An idea that your two best friends are boning each other?” Ryuji’s arm falls around his neck, and soon he drags him and Ann into a strangled hug. “Seriously, dude. You have your pick of anyone and you pick _Ann_?”

Ryuji recoils as Ann’s elbow collides with his stomach. Ren’s girlfriend looks completely pissed, and he was sure Ryuji would have faced an even harsher punishment if Ann hadn’t decided to call Ren out instead. “Joker’s got the MetaNav back on his phone.”

“Wait, what? You do?” The runner reaches out and swipes through his own older model. “What the hell dude! Here we are spinning our brains about how to find Akechi and you have the answer right here!”

Maybe. He has half an answer anyway. Though why Ann and Ryuji don’t have the app is more than a little disturbing. Ren wanted to be silent about it. Yaldabaoth had created this thing to pit him and Akechi against each other and having it back and _him_ only having it back? That can’t be good news. What if it meant the God of Control isn’t dead? That it’s impossible to kill a god at all?

Where _is_ Igor?

“I don’t know why I have the app, but isn’t it sort of pointless? Persona users can’t have palaces.”

“I had one! And a Persona too for a little bit.” Futaba, though seemingly focused on her laptop and clips of Yukari Takeba as Pink, raises her right hand from the booth in the middle of the café and points. “Mona! Explain!”

The black cat is atypically silent, and even now he hesitates to answer with four blatant strangers in the room. Ren moves away from Ann and Ryuji to lean on the counter where Morgana was perched. “Morgana?”

“I never really thought about that. It’s true that you had a palace, Futaba, but the distortion developed long before you ever had access to a Persona.”

Tatsumi’s eyes bulge, and the tall, broad man removes the yellow hat on his head. “Um, are you guys talking to that cat?”

“This is Morgana.” Queen offers quickly as an explanation. “He’s one of us. Our cognition of his ability to talk changed once we saw him in the Metaverse. Don’t worry if you can’t understand him yet.”

Tatsumi sniffs. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was worried about.”

“More normal than a hollow bear mascot.” Yu points out, and Ren does not even want to begin to ask what that could mean.

If a palace only meant having a large enough distortion _before_ an awakening, it would be more surprising if Akechi doesn’t have one. Ren’s jittery from too much coffee, hands twitching on the counter and tapping mindlessly. He’s anxious and it feels almost foreign. Usually, he doesn’t know his targets. Sure, he had a debt to clear with Kamoshida, and he knew Sae from Makoto and Shido for being an incredible asshole, but Akechi was ( _is?_ ) formative. Their bond is unlike any of his other confidants--built on lies and false smiles and an uncanny familiarity. Ren had liked the second coming of the Detective Prince. He was obnoxious and vain, but even in the beginning, Ren could see the cracks in his smile, the undercurrent of something so much darker than argyle sweaters and food blogs. Akechi is the same stone carved with a different knife. And if his palace is the same…Ren can’t tell if he’s excited or terrified about seeing it.

“My apologies, Ren-san, but is this application you’re discussing a red and black eye on your smartphones?”

He blinks. His mind is lost for a second and he thinks it’s Yusuke or maybe Queen talking to him, but instead it’s Shirogane, the original Detective Prince. She holds up her own smartphone, unlocked, and there’s the MetaNav in all its creepy splendor.

There’s a brief pause across Leblanc and then all of the Thieves scramble for their phones. Queen’s eyes widen as do Haru’s. The Big Bang Burger heiress prickles and runs delicate fingers through her wavy hair. The anger is subdued behind a mask of pleasantness, and Ren can’t help but think of how she reminds him of Akechi. He knows better than to say anything though.

“Oh, my.” Her long nails click on her phone. “It seems that all we need are his key words. How…interesting.”

“Aw man, seriously? How come Haru has it and I don’t?” Futaba whines while reaching for Yusuke’s phone. “Are some of us nerfed?”

“Nerfed?” Risette looks at her fellow navigator but seemingly decides Shirogane is a safer bet for an explanation. The idol goes on her toes to peer over the short girl’s shoulder. “That’s the MetaNav? How you guys enter your Shadow World?”

“It seems so. Rise, you don’t have the application, do you?” Shirogane asks.

“No.” She swipes through her own pink-cased smartphone. “Nothing.”

Well, that’s not good.

Joker needs a Navi, and as much as he loves Morgana and his wind-affinity, he was sort of hoping for a little more boost. Narukami shakes his head as well, and then something clicks.

They aren’t meant to do this together. Of course not. Though there’s a chance they could all get dragged in, Ren sincerely doubts that’s the case. The absence is a clear sign, a lockout. They are on an end-of-the-world timeline with no actual idea of when Erebus or Nyx or whoever they need to kill is going to be resurrected via the _magnum_ _opus_ and it makes sense that they would need to rush this. There are more than a dozen Persona users in this room, three of them Wildcards. Why would Ren ever think it would be so easy to have them all do _one at a time_?

“You should try the TV again,” Ren tries to be cavalier. Just throw it out there, see if it sticks, but Yu’s grey eyes narrow, the same idea clicking into place. The taller man moves towards Leblanc’s old TV. A daytime drama sounds off in the background, and some curly-haired woman’s face becomes covered as his hand presses against the glass.

There goes that theory.

“So, I’m completely sidelined?” Yu stares at the drama with faint interest.

“No, I don’t think so.” Shirogane examines the TV and gives it a gentle tap before facing the rest of the group. “Amamiya-san, If I’m interpreting you correctly, I also don’t think we’re all meant to face this Goro Akechi. Yu was given the ability to go into the TV World from a god. I imagine the Metaverse worked similarly?”

“That’s correct.” Makoto answers, curling a bit of her brown hair behind her ears. “But that god is dead.”

Tatsumi laughs. “Just like this Akechi guy?”

_Fair point._

“It may not be the same god, but I think it’s fair to assume there’s some higher power that wants us to complete this task, and perhaps the limitation of Persona users is Erebus’ way of fighting for its reincarnation.” Shirogane stares deeply at her phone. “These key words…it has to do with Akechi-san’s distortion, correct? We will need to brainstorm what that could mean while Yu tries to gain access to the TV World again.”

“They said you’d be first.” Yu turns away from the TV. “But what if they meant we’d just _start_ there first? Once you have the key words, maybe I’ll have access again.”

“But we had access before. This doesn’t make sense.” The idol pouts. It seems childish, and, if Ren were to be honest, a little annoying until she speaks again. “And we shouldn’t go back there anyway. It’s too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Ren asks.

“Yes. I’m not going back there and abandoning Yu again. No way.”

“This is more important than that, Rise.” Yu’s dry voice has a trace of the same annoyance Ren feels. “If Adachi’s shadow is there, we have to stop him.”

“Adachi’s in jail. How could his shadow be in the TV World at all?” Kujikawa argues back. “I say, we go to his prison and make him give up whatever we’re searching for. He must have just put it somewhere.”

“Didn’t Lavenza say this was similar to a Treasure? That’s not how it works.” Morgana sways his tail back and forth. The Investigation Team stares at the cat blankly. “Ugh, this is so annoying. Leader, please tell them.”

“That’s not how a Treasure works,” Ren states flatly. He waits for Morgana to feed him more dialogue but is met with silence. “Okay, look. I think this will operate the same as our heists. The bad guy’s shadow is in the Metaverse or the TV World or…whatever Makoto’s got and we have to go in separately and face them.” He holds up a hand to stop Rise from interrupting. “And yeah, it’s probably a god messing with our complete access. We’ll deal with that later. I still need a navigator, a toy knife, and some idea of what Akechi’s distortion would be.”

“Navigator? Does he mean like Fuuka?”

The voice is stern and weirdly reminds him of Kawakami, but Yukari Takeba is half-down his stairs, leaning on Makoto Yuki. They are both flushed, the red making Makoto look alive for the first time since Ren has ever seen him. The employee and host in Ren is unstoppable. He moves behind the counter and mechanically pushes his bangs back. “Can I get you a coffee, Takeba-san? Curry?”

“Coffee and curry?” She wriggles her nose. “I’m…good, thanks. Makoto caught me up partially. And you all know about SEES?”

Ren glances to Queen for confirmation and then nods. “Yup.”

“Great. Then I’m calling Aigis here.” Yukari takes out a smart phone with a pink-fluff charm.

“Yukari…”

The dynamic between them shifts immediately. Yukari moves out of his hold and is already shooting off some text. Ren doesn’t really understand Makoto’s chagrin. They need more people, and he somehow doubts either of them have MetaNav access as well.

There’s no explicit explanation of who Yukari is to Makoto, but with their eventual closeness in a booth, it doesn’t take an erudite to know she is someone significant. And Lovers arcana? That’s interesting. He feels his body turn to face Ann. She’s pulling at her hair, a nervous tick, and he wants to kiss her. But the room is full, and he is stuck behind the counter anyway, so Ren focuses on a different bond deep, deep within his soul.

What was Akechi’s justice?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what it means that I enjoyed coming up with Akechi's key words.


	9. Thin Ice

She is probably going to lose that distribution deal because of this, but it’s of minimal consequence. Sure, the actual financial loss was probably in the millions of yen, but Aigis’ report? Invaluable.

Mitsuru feels almost guilty for tracking the weapon-turned-friend down, but the practical matter is Aigis is a beautiful, young looking _robot_ , and the odds of her not being approached or discovered was low. She rather not have to pay off the Asahi Shimbun again. It’s becoming unseemly.

Her reluctance is strong when she finally gets Aigis on the phone. Aigis withheld all specific information, and it’s only when Mitsuru admits that she knows she’s in Takeba’s apartment that her friend relents: Takeba sensed something and wanted Aigis’ opinion.

That information itself isn’t overly surprising. Yukari and Aigis repaired a once torn relationship much like Yukari and Mitsuru had. They were all undoubtedly close. She hasn’t seen Takeba or Amada or Iori for years, but Mitsuru is shocked that she felt some sadness that Aigis was called for help while she was not.

The black town car pulls up to Yukari’s small, though expensive apartment in Chiyoda. Mitsuru was already here on business, and she pushes back her hair and straightens out the white skirt of her dress while delicately taking her driver’s hand. “Thank you as always, Takuto.” She reaches back to grab her black leather bag and dips her sunglasses high over her eyes. She is no where near as identifiable as Yukari now, but any connection the budding actress has with the current CEO of a mega-conglomerate is cause for immense (and annoying) press. Aigis is already standing in the lobby, long dress and layered turtleneck covering any parts more android than not. Mitsuru refrains from any friendly greeting and jumps to the point. “I’m assuming Takeba is meeting us upstairs?” Her friend ignored any of her recent texts, perhaps out of guilt. And though Mitsuru has…tried to be more understanding of her friends’ lack of forethought, the sternness is clearly audible in her voice.

“Yukari-san is not here.”

A red eyebrow quirks. Yukari is one of the more responsible members of SEES. She wouldn’t leave Aigis by herself without a good reason. Mitsuru gestures to the mirrored elevator in the back of the lobby. “Perhaps this is better to discuss in private.”

* * *

“ _Conditions have not been met_.”

“…uhh asylum?”

“ _Conditions have not been met_.”

“TV Studio?”

“ _Conditions have not been met.”_

“Oh! Oh! Try police station!”

“ _Conditions have not been met.”_

Ren swipes up on his phone to close the MetaNav. The surrounding Phantom Thieves move back, hopefully realizing his frustration. Though somehow he doubts it.

Earlier, he called Sojiro to _(hi!)_ let him know he’s back in Tokyo for a little longer than initially anticipated and that he shouldn’t bother to open Leblanc for the late afternoon crowd. The older man grumbled, said some entirely grouchy and prickly before topping it off with a: _“Is Futaba involved in this again?”_

Not yet isn’t really the best answer, but Ren has already lied too much to Sojiro. The MetaNav, Ren knows, is entirely un-hackable, but he asks Futaba again for good measure and because figuring out Akechi’s words is proving to be more annoying than fun.

“Negative. You know that, Leader. We have to try and dig into that murderer’s psyche and figure out the key words from there. Big Sis have any idea?” Futaba looks to Makoto.

“I’m sorry. She doesn’t, and she’s stuck in court today otherwise she’d be here.” Makoto leans back in the red booth. The Thieves have moved around so that they were all in one, full circle. Yuki and Takeba are taking a walk around Yongen and Narukami and friends are crowded in the kitchen, trying to stop Risette from something. Ryuji rests a hand on top of Makoto’s and the rather prudish girl, for once, does not move away. Haru is pale next to her, and Ren knows he should talk to her. She would never voice her displeasure outright, but this has to be impossibly hard for the girl and…

“Can we take a break?” Ann moves right in front of him. Ren nearly stumbles off the stool from the shock of blonde hair. “I want to talk to you. Alone.”

There’s an easy joke here, and Ren almost takes it, but his girlfriend looks stricken. The normal effervescence and high-energy is faded from her body. The Thieves look at the two of them. Futaba snickers and Yusuke cluelessly asks her what’s so funny. Ren dismisses a more colorful answer from the youngest member and straightens against the counter. “Let’s all take some time. Ryuji, do you mind heading over to Untouchable and picking something up for me?”

“Got it.”

“Makoto, Haru, you’ll need to go home and get your stuff as well. In fact, everyone should just in case the Nav decides to stop being a bitch. Let’s meet back here at 6.”

The Thieves nod and slowly start packing their stuff. Snacks, notebooks, Buchimaru-kun pencil cases, are all thrown into purses and backpacks as the Phantom Thieves slip out of Leblanc. Ann holds her tote tightly on her shoulder, pink nails digging into her own skin. Ren winces. _This should be fun._

He taps Narukami on the shoulder. The silver-haired man stares at the now turned off CRT TV a little too…vacantly, but Ren tries to ignore it. “I…uh…I need to take my girlfriend home for a bit.”

“That’s good.” Risette moves from the bottom cabinet and pulls out Sojiro’s curry pot. “Go and clear your head. Naoto’s gonna go and get her files, right Naoto?”

The detective only looks at the pot in blatant fear.

Ren scratches his waved hair. “Are you going to cook something?”

“I want to make curry, but it seems you don’t have enough spices.”

He’s pretty sure Sojiro always kept a month’s supply on hand, but Ren doesn’t press it. “Sorry, this is a restaurant. I’m not sure my guardian would like wasting supplies.”

Risette pouts , but Yu mouths a quick _thank you_ and pushes the idol from the kitchen. “We’ll relax here and wait for Makoto to get back. Is that alright?”

“Sure. See ya.” He motions a goodbye and meets Ann at the doorway. She takes his hand immediately, but her palms are cool and wet, almost slimy. Ren knows better than to jerk himself away, so he continues to hold onto her as she drags them to the station in silence.

It’s a short subway ride to Ann’s neighborhood and a slightly shorter walk to her apartment. Her parents are perpetually abroad, which is most of the times _really good_ but in this scenario, it only reminds Ren that when he’s back home, she’s completely alone. He doesn’t like that for her. Ann is, if anything, empathetic. She needs people as much as they need her, and the coldness of the white leather furniture and marble counters of her kitchen seem to only highlight her isolation even more.

She had no one really before the Thieves. There was Shiho, of course, but as much as he knows Shiho loves Ann, she wasn’t always in the best mental state to be there for the model. And though that was for good reason, it didn’t take away the fact that Ann was dealing with everything herself. No parents. Excessive sexual harassment. Helping her best friend’s depression. It was a lot for any teenager, for any _person_ , and he…admires her for it.

“Akechi shot you in the head.”

He’s surprised by how blatant she is. They’re beyond pitter-pattering around each other, he knows that, but the directness and severity in her voice makes him stay in place and not walk towards her. “Cognitive me.”

“Cognitive… _whatever_. He thought it was you. He wanted to kill you, and I know you…” She pauses and stomps her foot, frustrated, and then realizes she hasn’t taken off her boots. Ann jumps to unzipper her shoes and nearly tosses them towards the door where Ren is standing. He tries not to think she’s aiming for him, but it’s hard to say. She always did suck at darts. “You’d forgive him. You’re such a…a…”

“Um, sucker?” He grins.

“Don’t.” She shook her hair, twintails starting to frizz at the rush of air. “Don’t make light of this, okay? Don’t be…I don’t want you to be Joker right now. I want you to be Ren.”

He doesn’t really get it at first. Joker is him, and she is evoking Carmen more than ever as they speak. He moves to sit on the white couch. It’s stiff and low to the ground, but he doubts he could get comfortable anyway. Ann walks towards him slower, the passion and anger steaming off her as she bends to her knees in front of him. His eyebrows hitch at the action, but Ann only moves to his feet and delicately, calmly starts to remove his own shoes. She bites her bottom lip before asking, “What is it about Akechi?”

“What do you mean?”

“Haru and Futaba despise him. Ryuji says he always gave him the oogies, and I…” Tears outline her lower lashes. “I pity him, but I don’t like him.”

Ren doesn’t know how to explain. Akechi is his Justice Arcana, but she wouldn’t understand that. Akechi is…him without friends, in the absolute darkest time of his life. When he had initially been convicted and shipped off and written off and wanted nothing more than to shoot Masayoshi Shido in the head. Akechi is a sharp left turn of Ren _and_ Joker, and though Ren does not necessarily want to redeem him, he does want to save him.

He settles for, “We’re not that different.”

She’s about to object, and he suspects an outright, loud protest, but Ann only sits next to him on the couch. Her hands glide up and across his grey coat and wrap around his neck, tugging him closer and down and meeting her lips. She smells and tastes like strawberry jam, smooth and at times tart. It's sweet, intoxicatingly so. But he doesn't want to be too forward. She's angry at him, he knows that, but her worry and love is more brazen. It's only seconds before she unbuttons his coat, and he lets loose her hair and decides that key words can definitely, definitely wait.

* * *

“Takeba.”

The name is literal ice in the air. She is at first all bubbling happiness and rosiness. All confusion is pushed aside because, whatever, Makoto is here and not dead, and sure he looks seventeen and that may be creepy, but Yukari does not want this moment ruined. She had dreamed in half a dozen ways what this would look like and then would scold herself afterwards for it. Makoto shouldn’t be saved. She knows that. The fact that he’s here right now is worrying in so many different ways, but his hand is warm in hers and he’s less shy about tugging her close in the bench and moving back her hair and asks dumb questions about smart phones.

She is still so incredibly in love with him and Mitsuru is about to ruin everything.

Yukari leans away. She was brushing the crumbs of roasted nuts from Makoto’s nose when she heard her. The soft clicks of high-heeled boots. The razor-sharp tone. As she turns away from Makoto, the red, flowing hair is a surefire indicator, and she waits for Mitsuru to gasp or drop her expensive designer bag in the slush.

Her old senpai's head only cocks to the side. Long nails flick away a brush of red bangs, and she looks at Makoto, eyes slits. “What is this?”

“Mitsuru…” Yukari stands and rocks on her hands. “What, uh, what brings you here?”

“Aigis. She disappeared from Port Island without alerting me or Akihiko. I tracked her to Tokyo, and she told me you had an appointment in Yongen-Jaya.” She doesn’t move her gaze away from Makoto, and he just sits there, silent, also waiting for her to finally crack. “Did you…is he also an actor?”

Yukari splutters, “Wait, what?”

“My name is Mitsuru Kirijo.” She offers Makoto a hand, all professional, and finally looks back to Yukari. “Did you entice Aigis to come here with…this act?”

“Mitsuru, it’s me. It’s Makoto.” He doesn’t move from his position on the bench.

She nearly laughs. “I have to say, you’re terribly good. Structurally, your face is near perfect and you even have Yuki’s imperfect posture down pat.”

Makoto twitches in place and attempts to sit straighter. “Don’t make me say something to prove my identity. I don’t really want to play that game.”

“Demeanor as well. And hopefully you wouldn’t be able to.” Mitsuru's face reminds her of Kyoto and a hot spring. Yukari had once counted herself lucky she never inspired that much ire from the CEO. Fighting about the keys was bad enough. She doesn't need an execution. “I’m sure Yukari has kept things above board.”

The actress shakes her head. “Look, I know it’s absurd but he’s really...”

“You and Akihiko started doing it after the monorail Full Moon op.”

Yukari would have spit if she were drinking. Not because the news is surprising, but because Makoto has the balls to bluntly call Mitsuru out on it. Mitsuru’s pale skin is practically the same shade of her hair. Her mouth falls open, stunned, and she looks like she’s deciding whether or not to kill him or hug him. Makoto crosses a leg, looking bored. “I told you I didn’t want to play.”

“This…that’s impossible.”

He shrugs. “Akihiko’s not exactly great at sneaking. His evasion was always pretty…”

“No.” She shakes her head, realization snapping. “You’re dead.”

Makoto is silent. His back once again slouches against the wooden bench, and Yukari puts herself between them. “He’s not. I don’t exactly get why, but there are other Persona users and two other Wildcards. They saved Makoto.”

“How could that be? What about Nyx? And Erebus? Are you…are you allowed to be here?”

“Can’t you just be happy he is?”

“No, Yukari, she’s right.” He finally stands and digs his hands deeper into the borrowed coat’s pockets. The jacket is too long for him and has the seal of a private high school on the chest, but Makoto looks comfortable. He looks real and alive, and she doesn’t want to think about…about if this is only temporary. “We’re working with the other Persona users to permanently destroy Erebus. If that fails, I’ll become the Seal again.”

_…What?_

“Makoto, you can’t just do that,” Yukari argues. She keeps her tone strong, almost biting, to hide the plea from her words. She grabs on to his jacket sleeve and forces him to look at her. “Promise you won’t do that.”

“No.”

Something in her _rips_ and she raises her hand to slap him. She’s so angry. He can’t just live and die and live and die and leave her. It’s cruel. Infuriatingly so. Her wrist is pulled away, fancy nails clawing at her skin, and she turns to look at Mitsuru, surprise on her face replaced with annoyance. “That’s enough. We’re going to meet these other Persona users. Yukari, call Aigis here immediately.” Mitsuru lets go of her, and Yukari grimaces. She feels scolded, like a child, and she supposes she's acting like one. She isn’t sixteen and caught in a towel. Makoto is doing what he thinks is right, and she can't help but disagree. 

She takes a step away from Mitsuru as the older woman dials a number on her own cell. “Who are you calling?”

Mitsuru raises a finger as the dial tone ends. “Akihiko…no, I missed the meeting…yes, it’s…just listen. Get to Tokyo immediately and bring Yamagishi.” She pulls the phone away. “Should I also get Iori and Amada here?”

The apathetic expression evaporates from Makoto’s face. He bristles, and Yukari has to wonder what he’s so anxious about. “I rather you not.”

“As our Squad Leader is that what you recommend?” Mitsuru pauses. “Do you think we are adequately prepared to defeat Erebus with the numbers on hand?”

He grates his teeth. “No.”

“If you can, get Iori and Amada as well but prioritize yourself, please.” Mitsuru almost whispers back into her cell. “…I’m not scared.”

“Junpei’s already in Tokyo.” Yukari moves to her messaging app. “I’ll take care of that.”

“Amada and Yamagishi. Takeba’s handling Iori,” Mitsuru echoes back to her phone. “Thank you, Akihiko.” She closes the phone and rubs at her eyes. “Do you mind if I grab a coffee before meeting the fellow Persona users? I believe I saw a vending machine just down the road.”

“No need.” Makoto is already four steps ahead and leading them back to Leblanc. Yukari can practically smell the curry already.

* * *

“You don’t want to try it?”

“I’m okay.”

“You look famished.”

“Nope. All good.”

“I bought this at the grocery store, Yu. It’s instant. How bad can it be?” Rise takes a sniff and puts out her tongue. “Actually, it seems a little bland.”

“Okay, I’ll try it.”

She pushes the bowl and chopsticks over to him and takes out a store-bought red bean bun from her purse. The café is quiet. The cat—Morgana—is in the attic going over supplies and tools somehow. Naoto and Kanji headed back to Naoto’s apartment to grab some case files on Goro Akechi, and her and Yu are alone. Sixteen-year-old her would love this moment, and twenty-two-year-old her also doesn’t exactly mind. Yu was—is—strangely incredible to her. Dry humor and smart wit and the ability to make a white polo and jeans look fantastically good. He was great at sports and the arts and was such a good big brother to Nanako. Every girl in Inaba swooned over him, and the worst part was _he knew it_.

Well, she knows better now. She’s a famous idol. She gets piles and piles of fan mail a day. People love her not just because she’s Risette but also because of _her,_ and she is tired and better than letting some old crush drag her down.

_Then you should really stop flirting with him._

Though that’s harmless, right? That’s just fun, and it’s not real and will never be real so why does it matter?

It doesn’t. Not at all. Especially when the world is facing another possible end. “Should we talk?”

Yu quickly nods and finishes a giant slurp of the instant ramen. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Yukiko.”

“What? No, Yu. About Adachi.” She taps hard on the booth’s table and tries to keep her chin high. She thinks it’s working. “I don’t care about you and Yukiko.”

“That’s not what you said earlier.” He blinks, innocent, curious.

And he’s right. She did say that, not in those exact words, but the meaning was totally obvious. She’s not exactly indirect but she wants to be. She’s torn between wanting him and forgetting about him, and she was doing too good a job of wanting. It comes across as desperate and…what’s the word? _Thirsty?_ It’s not good for her image at all and dating him…dating him would be catalytic to her career.

_Isn’t that what you want?_

Not if it’s not 100% completely real. All-in, all-out forever. He is the only person she had ever met that made her want _always_ but there is nothing about Yu Narukami that says that’s what he can give. She plays into some of the truth. Acting in commercials never really prepared her for this. “That’s a joke. Just fun. You know I can’t date.”

“I didn’t…” He shakes his head. “I guess I didn’t really think about it.”

“Well, now you know. Adachi then?” She swallows a piece of her food. It calms her a bit, the sweetness of the red bean taking her mind off Yu’s face and hands and the anticipation of seeing him hold a katana again. “I wonder if the key words are similar to how Teddie and I found people in the TV World.”

“Do you think accessing Adachi will be the same as the Phantom Thieves? I thought you wanted to go see him in prison.”

“I mean…why not? It’s a lot easier than going through those crazy dungeons. I gotta think Palaces are something similar to what we dealt with.” She folds her hand, leaving the bun on the table. “Yu…when we were in the TV World. I think…I felt something.”

His face softens, and she feels her chest catch. And there it is. Quick and easy. The thing she loves most about Yu Narukami. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure if it’s Erebus or the Nyx thing Yuki-san keeps talking about, but it’s…scary. It reminded me of Izanami only…only unbeatable.”

“Your Shadow was unbeatable once too.” Yu smiles, and Rise can’t help but gasp a little. Her memory is fuzzy, and she knows that day was awful, but it is a blip of power to what she felt. “We’ll find a way.”

“This seems bigger than a couple of murders.”

“And a gas attendant hiding out as a goddess?”

“Maybe.” She can’t help but grin. “Just a bit.”

“It feels good again.” Yu, if he has any anxiety, does not show it at all. He is tall and warm across from her, and whatever awkward air Rise felt between them is gone. She wants to touch him. She wants to allow herself to flirt and hug and _beg_ for his attention because there’s a part of her that thinks he wouldn’t run away. He might…he might be okay with it for more than just a little while.

“If Adachi does have one of these palaces, it’d be strange since he’s already admitted his crimes. I thought that only happened after the Thieves did their thing. Maybe because we defeated his…”

“Don’t you feel good too?”

She stutters, “What’s going on with you?”

“It might be having a mission again, the talks of Personas, saving the world. I’ve missed that.” He admits. “I told you this before, but it could also be you.”

“Me?” She ignores the cloying warmth, the inevitable blush on her cheeks. He’s entirely enthralling, and Rise wants to believe him. She does. She really does, but… “I’ve been here. I’ve been here for years, Yu.” She crosses her leg and rolls her shoulders. She’s tired from sleeping on Kanji’s couch and the lack of her jetted showerhead. “Let’s focus. Brainstorm. Adachi’s key words. And...go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit sappier. Sorry to those who are waiting on the action!
> 
> Also trying to inject a little bit of Royal in Ren's characterization but that's probably the most this fic will venture into third semester...


	10. The Wake

_There must have been a way to get him out. There has to be. The steam and his thoughts are creating both a physical and emotional avalanche. He’s tunneled, trapped. The engine around them is blaring some inconceivable decibel, and it pounds against his head. He’s up against the wall, gloved hands feeling the cold metal bleed into his bones, and then there is a scream that cuts through the mechanical hysteria. There is the sound of gunshots and Shadows, and Futaba is practically_ whining _behind them as she takes a break from her scanners._

_“Joker…”_

_Everything is a buzz. Words are scrambled and he expects…something else. A maniacal laugh. A snap and melting of chains, of the Justice bond crashing and burning in front of him. And it_ is _unchained. There’s an internal snap and release in the recesses of his mind, and it’s an achievement he felt before, with nearly every member of the Thieves, but the completion and triumph he’s supposed to feel is murky, deflated as the moment hits him like a—well—gunshot to the head._

Akechi’s dead.

_Shouldn’t he feel…happy? No, happy is too much, but he should feel relieved. He should feel something besides this thrumming ache and the sensation that he’s going to need to vomit and vomit very, very soon. There’s a ringing in his head separate from the ambient noise. A flatline. His mouth runs dry and cracked, and he pushes against the wall, head dropping. He wants to rip his domino mask clean off. He wants to release this flood of sorrow and guilt and absolute pure rage, but he can’t awaken twice, can he?_

_“Hey there.”_

_He expects Mona to notice first. Maybe Queen. But it’s Panther’s boots clicking behind him. She’s so close to him, left arm pressing against his right, as if the physical touch were needed to get his attention, and maybe it was. It’s numb besides the feeling of her, and he looks at her, exhaling. Her eyes are so blue against the blood red of her mask, and he finds himself leaning on her, pushing against her. Limp. Dead._

_“Ren.” His real name slips past her lips, and it shakes him. It reminds him of where they are and that maybe they shouldn’t be here at all anymore. “Need a break?”_

_He needs a goddamn tranquilizer._

_“Yeah.” He takes his weight off her. There are tear streaks on her face, and he doesn’t feel alone anymore. He doesn’t feel as confused. “Mona?”_

_The not-a-cat looks to him. “Leader?”_

_“Do we have a Goho-M?_

_“On it.”_

_The Thieves are silent as the mysterious item catapults them back to the Palace entrance. Tokyo sinks around them, buildings moldy and hollowed out by the crashing waves of the black ocean. Joker rocks with the water. He’s seasick. He’s…broken in a way he didn’t think people could break. Skull leans to whisper to Queen, and the older girl stiffens but nods her head. Noir is stoic. Futaba is refreshing something on her arm over and over again, but Yusuke guides her towards the exit out of the Metaverse._

_Panther still follows him. Joker doesn’t know what she wants, what she’s staring at, and then there’s a curl of pink latex around his right shoulder. “I…I don’t know what it’s like exactly.” Panther’s voice is soft under the howl of the wind. It wails around them, a dying city taking its last breath. “But I’ve thought I’ve lost a friend before. I…I had to watch her almost…and maybe that’s not the same but…” She moves in front of him and the tears are gone but the blue is there and ultraviolet. “If you ever want to talk, Joker.”_

_He does. He wants to talk, but the words slip._

_“Not now then. That’s fine. Tomorrow? Shujin’s roof? Shiho wants to give it one final goodbye. I’ve been delaying it because of all of this, but I…” Her eyes widen. “Oh. I’m…you don’t have to.”_

_“I’ll come.”_

_“Okay.” She nods furiously, awkwardly pulls on her pink gloves._

_“You’re a good friend, Ann.”_

_She blushes a shade lighter than her catsuit. “I know. Come on, everyone’s waiting for us.”_

* * *

Blonde hair is completely covering his face. It’s warm, a little grimy. He’d have to tell Morgana he finally understands what a hairball is like and…well maybe he shouldn’t. Ren rubs the locks of hair from his mouth and turns on the pillow. Ann is faced away from him because apparently he murmurs in his sleep and it’s _really more annoying than cute_. But the hint of a smile makes him think he’s definitely more cute than anything else. There’s no other explanation as to why he’s allowed to date her.

“Ann.” He nudges her with his elbow and shivers from the cold air hitting his bare chest. Ren maneuvers himself up and reaches for the long-discarded t-shirt on her bedspread. It doesn’t do much to make him warm, but it’s something. “Ann?”

“No.” She buries her head in the pillow, and Ren holds back a chuckle and lowers himself into her mess of bedhead.

“Please.”

“Nooo!”

“We have to go.”

“Can’t I just be a super-hot model with a super-hot boyfriend and like, just be worried about paparazzi and if I can still eat crepes?”

“You’ll never worry about eating crepes.”

She laughs, and it vibrates against him. They’re naked besides Ren’s t-shirt, and the feeling is absolutely amazing and consuming, and he needs to push it away. “You’re right.” Her hand reaches up and she pulls fingers through his hair. He twitches under her touch. “What time is it?”

“We have to be back in Leblanc in an hour.”

Ann yawns and turns so they are face to face. He’s warm looking at her. He shouldn’t have put his shirt back on. Her own face is tinted pink, and Ann leans up quickly to kiss him. “How are you feeling?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Not good,” Ann says honestly. “I’m scared. I can’t come with you. You haven’t used a fire-based Persona in how long? And…”

“I’ll get one.”

“How?”

“I…I’ll figure it out.”

“And Akechi’s alive.”

He rubs her cheek. “I guess he is.”

“You’re not him, Ren.” And it’s like a flume of ice water. Ann is too goddamn smart, and he’s an awful boyfriend _and_ friend who doesn’t give her enough credit most of the time. She’s bad at math and science and, well, most subjects in school, but she can read him like a picture book. 

And Ann thinks it’s true. Of course, she does. She dislikes Akechi but loves Ren, and that would be confusing otherwise. She’s dating the right side of a flipped coin, and it could have been so easily switched. He could have so easily been manipulated the other way, have fallen to ruin if it were not for her and his friends. He didn’t have Shido as a father and an unadulterated image to uphold. He had bonds. Plain and simple. He briefly thinks about if Akechi _were_ him. Of Ann running fingers through _his_ hair and how they’d probably go on dates to get pancakes all the time and fight about how fluffy they should actually be.

His skin crawls.

Ann slips a hand on his chest. Her finger rotates, pokes at his muscle. She’s hesitant. “Can I…can I tell you something?”

“You think pancakes are just morbidly obese crepes?”

“What? No! How does your mind even work?”

He really can’t answer that.

Luckily, Ann doesn’t seem to expect him to. “When we got you out of probation…” Her voice grows soft again, a muted timbre as she bites her bottom lip. “We had some help.”

Ren grabs her hand. Her nails are too long and really hurt sometimes. He kisses her palm, and it tastes like salt and cotton. “I know you didn’t do it all by yourself. I made some…interesting friends with connections. I’m grateful for everything.”

“That’s not it.” Ann fusses with her hair and decides that this conversation is better to have not naked. Ren, rationally, agrees, but still frowns when he watches his girlfriend pull on a tank top and large cowled sweater over her head. Blonde hair turns to static, and Ann easily pats it down. Ren’s a little envious. “Your case was so tied to Shido’s. Sae-san knew we’d have to bring his character into question in order to even have it reconsidered.” Ann slips on skintight jeans and sighs as she fastens the button. “He was almost prime minister…”

His mind spins, jumping over her words and mannerisms to string everything together. “Akechi helped you.”

She bounces and almost trips as she tries to put on a pair of striped socks. “Huh?”

“Is that what you’re trying to say?” He makes his own way off the bed. Replaces his boxers, his pants. Ren tries to steady his voice. “Did he?”

“We’re not…I’m not sure. I mean, ask me this a month ago and I would have said no way, but now…” Ann finally finishes dressing and collapses back on the bed. “Sae-san received a lot of help…a lot of evidence against Shido. Her source was anonymous.”

 _Anonymous?_ His chest feels stretched, pulled and gaping at the seam of his ribs. “Then she must know where he is.”

“Makoto said…”

“We should get to the courthouse. Maybe if you talk to her she’ll remember something.”

“She doesn’t know, Ren. But we can…” She sits back up and maneuvers her body to hug him. He’s faced away from her, but he feels her cheeks press against the small of his back. “I promise you will find him, okay? I promise.”

His heart calms. “I know.”

“And if we don’t, apparently it’s just the end of the world, right? No biggie.” She kisses him quickly on the cheek. “Ready to head out, Leader?”

She’s saving face. Ann is getting too good at acting, is already too good at manipulating her body and facial expressions for the camera or a maybe too-sullen boyfriend. But it’s what he needs right now—her assurance, her courage. He takes his phone from the dresser and slips it into his pocket. He’s as ready as he’ll ever be.

* * *

Naoto, though remarkably stoic most days, looks like she wants to slap him. He’s not sure why. He hasn’t really done anything besides add carrots to the convenience store ramen (he knew he should have picked scallions) and almost caused all four of them to crack a tooth. Maybe it’s frustrations with the police files she brought back with her. They’re few physical files that she offers him to pour through across from her, and Yu has already gone through them twice. Naoto herself is typing away at her laptop, a brand-new metallic USB plugged in.

Her normal, laser-focus has turned shifty. She looks at him and then towards the counter. Rise and Kanji are parked there. Rise draws some sort of costume on a napkin, and Kanji, though seemingly not engaged, perks up as the idol mentions something about an overcast stich.

“Did you and Kanji get into a fight?”

Naoto’s aggressive typing stops. She leans her head up, cap almost falling at the swift motion, and then narrows her eyes back to the screen. “No. It has actually been a relief to see him.”

“You seem mad.”

“I am certainly not mad, Yu. I have already looked through this case file over and over. I am probably just a little frustrated. Apologies if…”

“Is it…lunch? I had to make a choice between soggy noodles or hard carrots. Soggy noodles aren’t good at all.”

“Yu.” Naoto pinches her nose and flips the lid to her laptop close. “Can we talk outside for a moment?”

He hopes for the parallel, that she wants to just run through potential leads with him outside a small restaurant on a winter’s day. But Naoto’s posture is closed, tiny. Her arms are crossed tightly around her chest, and she maintains the hard stance even as she leans under Leblanc’s red and white awning. She seemed uncomfortable—more awkward than normal— so Yu decides to start off. “It looks like Akechi-san had run-ins with a glut of government officials. He wouldn’t be using any of them as contacts if the relationship with his father is as…”

“Sorry, you misunderstood the reason for this meeting. Though you’re right in thinking Goro Akechi should be our major concern, I wanted to talk about you.”

“Me?” Yu runs a hand through his silver-hair, already wet from a few snowflakes. He slips deeper under the awning next to her and is careful not to lean too much on the front door of the café. “What about?”

“How you treat Rise.”

That… _what?_ He hasn’t even seen Rise for years before this week. Sure, he called her and sent her texts and maybe even flowers when she released her last album, but weren’t those things _nice_? Why did he feel like he was being scolded? “Um, okay?”

“It might be surprising to you, but Rise and I have grown rather close with my constant trips to Tokyo and other cities. Some would even say we were best friends.”

“By some do you mean you?”

“Precisely.” Naoto still wears her gun on her waist. It’s hidden under her coat, but Yu takes note of it and the increasingly threatening tone. “She loves you.”

Oh.

Okay?

This isn’t news. Rise had always replied to his texts with heart emojis and heart smiley faces and even text hearts and gif hearts with increasing frequency after he and Yukiko broke up. Looking back, it was quite obvious she had known about his relationship being over. Yu rocks his head back, so it collides with the glass of the front door. “Is this important right now?”

“I can see why you would you say that. In weighing my friend’s romantic feelings over the end of the world, of course priority should be given to the latter. But considering how distracting this situation is to my usually high deduction ability, I think it’s better that we discuss this now.”

Yu blinks. “It’s bothering you that much? What am I doing exactly?”

Naoto kicks a small cliff of slush away with her heeled boots. “It’d be hypocritical for me to fault you too much. I also led on Kanji quite often when I was uncertain of my own feelings. Though perhaps that does make me the best person to discuss this with you.”

This was a joke. “You think I’m leading Rise on?”

“Precisely.”

He would guffaw if he knew how. Yu places his hands in his pockets to protect them from the cold. “I don’t…”

“I know you don’t mean to. I didn’t either. But the power imbalance is there—you must notice that at least?”

Yu stops. Truly thinks. He likes Rise. He’s always liked Rise, and yeah maybe when they were teenagers, he was more afraid of her intensity than attracted to it, and, sure, it’s still too much for him at times, but… “What if I’m not leading her on?”

Naoto stands straight and pushes herself off the outer wall of the café. Her breath is a heavy puff of cold air as she exhales. “Senpai…”

“I do like her, Naoto.”

Naoto shakes her head. “Just be careful what you say. That’s it. That’s all the time we should be talking about this. Now. Goro Akechi.” She turns to face him completely. The empathetic friend is gone and replaced with a logical detective. “Have you gleaned anything from the paperwork I gave you?”

“He’s had a rough life.” Yu cemented that observation when the second Detective Prince turned nine in his files. Goro Akechi was an orphan. His mom committed suicide. His dad was the almost Prime Minister Shido. He was pushed and shoved into a series of foster homes, and that’s before all the supposed murders missing from official police records.

“And as you alluded to, there is a dearth of people he would go to for help if he were still alive.” Naoto elbows him, and Yu matches her smile. The truth is something they both loved to figure it, and he’s greatly for her change in demeanor, that their bond is rock solid and made of the strongest metal. Naoto tips her hat. “Shall we run through some names?”

“The Phantom Thieves as a catchall,” Yu offers first. “I doubt any of them are hiding him in a basement.”

“Or attic.” Naoto flicks her head to the upper floor of Leblanc. “Amamiya-kun would be my most likely suspect if we remove the current circumstance.”

“It’s not Ren.” Yu’s sure of this though is uncertain why.

“Niijima-san would be my other guess, but I’ve spoken with her casually about this subject a handful of times. She did not display the typical signs of lying.”

“And her sister is a Phantom Thief. She would probably notice. Shido?” It’s unlikely given everything Yu’s read, and he swallows down the question of who Naoto had voted for last year. He was always a sucker for the underdog candidate, but he remembered Shido’s constant message of justice and better society. The Detective Prince he knew would have eaten that up.

“I went through his prison logs again. There’s nothing.”

“He could be using a pseudonym.”

Naoto shakes her head. “You misunderstand. Shido had no visitors. There was nothing in his log.”

Yu shuffles his feet, uncomfortable. Even Dojima had visited Adachi.

“The use of a pseudonym is interesting though.” Naoto turns to her phone and opens an email. The sender is some hospital he’s never heard of before, but the last name sparks a strong memory. “Uehara?”

“You know her?” Naoto lets him take the phone completely. “Interesting. She’s been my main contact at this rehabilitation center. She works there on weekends only but has been the most responsive to my questions.”

Yu’s head spins. He still has her contact info, and he opens the attachment quickly. “What’s the most suspicious?”

“Name?” Naoto takes her phone back. The PDF is a log of names for November and December last year. “Most of these names are ridiculous when you examine them superficially. No doubt most of them are picked to hide an identity, but this one.” She expands the list with her phone and hands it back to Yu. “Timing makes sense with Goro Akechi’s disappearance. Plus, the meaning.”

 _Heri Wado_. The name was gibberish. “The meaning?”

“The Western pronunciation would be Hereward.”

“I don’t…”

“It’s not exactly common knowledge. I wouldn’t know this myself if Grandfather didn’t have multiple books on the subject. But one common hypothesis is that Hereward, a 11th century Saxon warrior, was the true identity of a the thief known as Robin Hood.”

The name clicks from Ren’s story. He takes out his own phone and immediately dials Sayoko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I lied about my P5R incorporations.
> 
> Also sorry for leaving out Makoto this time around. My man will have his moment!


End file.
